The Library of the Mighty Black Pearl
by mypiratecat1
Summary: I am archiving all of my one shots and drabbles in the ship's library here, mates, so enjoy! Most are postAWE, all are WE, and our Jack is just busy being Jack! SOMETHING WICKED is now up!
1. Chapter 1

Movies » Pirates of the Caribbean » The Library of the Mighty Black Pearl B s : A A A

Author: mypiratecat1

Fiction Rated: K+ - English - General - Reviews: 127 - Published: 08-13-07 - Updated: 01-21-08 id:3719472

۞

_Disclaimer: They all belong to Disney. Every last one of 'em... but they steals away in th' shadows an' visits me in th' night, like good pirates!_

_Author's note: Everyone who has read my three long fics knows that William has been released from his curse, with Jack's help, and he and Elizabeth are living upon the Black Pearl as a part of the crew, and that they had their baby on the ship. So it is in my lovely Pirates world!_

Prologue from The Author, Pirate Cat, 'erself!

Well, mates, I have only been writing upon this website since the middle of May, 2007, and I must say that I have almost been shocked at how well my stories have been received! You're all diamonds, mates! I have tried very hard to keep the characters "in character", and most of you have let me know that I am doing alright. My style of writing these wonderful characters is not for everyone, so a tip o' th' tricorn to those of you who have reviewed and pm'ed me to tell me that you like what I do. I have tried to treat Captain Jack Sparrow and his friends with a great deal of affection and with respect to the movies' talented writers, Terry and Ted. I can't say enough about them... and everyone knows how I feel about the marvelous actors that brought these characters to life.

What I am doing, here, is compiling all of my one shots into one place... the existing ones (all 30 of 'em!), plus any more that I write as I go along. The problem with one shots is that they are just that... one shots... and once the website updates with new stories and chapters from all of my other creative mates out there, the one shots get lost further and further back in the watery fanfic abyss. So I will just make a one shot/drabble "library", as it were, of my stories, and add each new story eventually. That way, the other one shots will all be there in one place for new readers to enjoy, too!

As for me wonderful, faithful readers who have already read these, and so kindly reviewed... I will update the table of contents below with each addition. If you have the existing one shots already added to your favorite stories, I will not delete them from the website, for your convenience!

Thanks, mates, for indulging me and letting me cram all of these together as chapters. And have no worries...there will always be new fics to come from Pirate Cat, savvy? Pirate Cat raises her mug of rum, jumps up and down, and shouts "Huzzah" for finally getting organized!

۞

TABLE OF CONTENTS

1. Prologue

2. Courage and Fortitude - a sad drabble that takes place during Curse of the Black Pearl.

3. Stopping the Sand - Will thinks about his visit to Jack in jail at Fort Charles, and decides to take matters into his own hands. During Curse of the Black Pearl.

4. At Nine Bells - a very short drabble. Will's thoughts as Jack's hanging is about to take place. During Curse of the Black Pearl.

5. Sullied - a drabble. The cruel thoughts of Davy Jones. During Dead Man's Chest.

6. Mayhem - a drabble. Will Turner ponders a word which describes his odd friend, Captain Jack Sparrow.

7. Trinkets - a drabble. A conversation between Jack and Will about Jack's famous beads and trinkets.

8. Dolphins - a drabble. Mr. Gibbs has changed his mind upon what brings bad luck.

9. A Friendly Game of Dice - The one shot that inspired my long fiction "Calypso's Hand". Captain William Turner has fished Jack Sparrow and his dinghy out of the sea, and they have a meaningful conversation while playing a game of dice aboard the Dutchman.

10. Earrings - Yet another conversation between William and Jack during the same game of dice.

11. Fathers and Sons - As William, Bill and Jack plan to take back the Pearl, Jack sadly reflects upon his own father.

12. An Accord - William has been released from the Flying Dutchman early; he passes the captaincy on to a very worthy successor.

13. Land Legs - William sets foot upon land for the first time after being released from his curse, with Jack's help, of course.

14. Irish Gaelic - a poignant long drabble. Jack teaches William to speak his own native language... and a sad thought comes to him during the lesson.

15. Not To Be Taken For Granted - Slightly humorous one shot. William has learned a lot from Captain Jack Sparrow, firstly to hope that Gibbs never has to pull out one of his teeth, but most of all to never take the world at face value.

16. Names - Sweet fluffy drabble. Just a humorous, short conversation between Elizabeth, William and Jack about choosing a name for a baby.

17. Fears - a fun, friendship one shot, just they way that I always write Jack and Elizabeth... as friends.

18. Surprises - Fluffy one shot. Elizabeth and William are expecting, and they find out what a softie our Jack can be.

19. Glass Eyes - Humorous drabble. Mr. Ragetti goes to the marketplace with Captain Sparrow.

20. Good Business - VERY dark one shot. Cutler Beckett has had his fill of Jack Sparrow, and both of their lives change forever with a red hot branding iron.

21. Leaving His Mark- One of my own personal favorites. Salty, humorous pirate talk! Jack tells William and Elizabeth just how he left his mark upon Lord Cutler Beckett. Loves me Jack!!

22. One Song, One Note - Humorous one shot. A harpsichord is brought aboard the Pearl during the raid of a French ship, and it presents yet another opportunity for Jack and Elizabeth to be good friends.

23. The Sign Above the Door - Originally a two shot. On a trip into port with Mr. Gibbs, Elizabeth learns about social prejudice, especially against someone like Captain Jack Sparrow, and the crew of the Pearl.

24. Trifles - Kind of a sweet one shot; Elizabeth feels guilt, and Jack explains why he is no longer furious with her.

25. The Way That He Is - Sad and sweet. Spinoff of my long fics in which Jack and William are cousins. Little Will Turner adores his cousin Jack, but wonders just why he is "the way that he is".

26. The Cliffs of Connemara - Sad one shot. Spinoff of my long fics in which Jack and William are cousins. The Turners return to Jack's homeland of Ireland to face the demons of his sad childhood, and to find the grave of his long dead mother.

27. Tentacles - Humorous one shot. Another conversation between Jack and William, in which Jack worries a bit about his past dealings with Tia Dalma.

28. Tattoos - Originally a fun two shot. Sailors remember events in their lives by tattooing them upon their bodies... a conversation between Jack, William and Elizabeth on the deck of the Pearl during a hot Caribbean day, and in Tortuga, later.

29. Reflections - Introspective. In a rare quiet moment, Jack reflects upon events in his life, as he catches sight of himself in a looking glass.

30. The North Star - Sweet one shot. Jack tries to teach Little Will Turner how to navigate using the stars, and the conversation goes astray, a bit.

31. Bad Choices - Very sad one shot. Takes place during a very pivotal scene during AWE. Hector Barbossa's point of view, as he, Jack and the crew discover the dead Kraken upon the Beach.

32. Sister Ships - One shot... the story of the Flying Dutchman, from the laying of her keel in Amsterdam to the Battle of the Maelstrom... her own point of view.

33. The Sacking of Nassau Port - Humorous one shot. (Another one of my own personal favorites... simply because it was such fun to write!) We all know that the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow sacked Nassau Port without firing a single shot... but it did not quite go as planned, according to Bootstrap Bill Turner.

34. From a Distance - Emotional one shot. Captain Teague requests a meeting with his son, Jack Sparrow... to finally clear some things up between them.

35. A Shifting of Priorities - Slightly humorous, sweet one shot. Elizabeth observes William and Jack, and thinks about some interesting changes in them all since they all met.

36. Trading Insults - Humorous one shot. Jack Sparrow explains to William and Elizabeth Turner just how he insulted Sao Feng during his first visit to Singapore.

37. His Little Bird - Sad one shot. The story of a pirate captain, whose life is changed, and whose heart is broken, by a tiny, beautiful baby boy.

38. Acceptance - One shot. There are tons and tons of stories about Jack having long lost children. Here is a different twist. What if he could NOT have children? Jack's introspective thoughts on acceptance, love and fatherhood. Rated T for mild sexual reference.

39. The Destruction of the Past, Chapter One - This is chapter one of a THREE shot... a three chapter story, meant as a one shot that got longer as I wrote! Angsty, emotional. Port Royal has been partially destroyed by a terrible earthquake, and in going back to see the damage, Jack, William and Elizabeth are reminded of the value of their friendship.

40. The Destruction of the Past, Chapter Two - Jack and William finally tell the crew of the what they saw in their mission to find out what happened to earthquake ravaged Port Royal. Will be concluded in Chapter Three.

41. The Destruction of the Past, Chapter Three - This story of the Port Royal earthquake is concluded with a private, heartfelt conversation between Jack, William and Elizabeth in Jack's cabin. Friendship is a very valuable commodity, indeed.

42. The Crewmembers from Singapore - Long humorous one shot. After William's heart is restored and he is released from the Dutchman, he and Elizabeth join the crew of the Black Pearl... they are in Singapore to take on provisions, and of course, fun isn't the only thing that follows Captain Jack Sparrow back from the marketplace!

43. The Wind, Chapter One - Dark, eerie two chapter story. Jack Sparrow's madness was legendary, but was it, indeed, really madness?

44. The Wind, Chapter Two - conclusion.

45. The Earl and The Duke - Humorous one shot! I had so much fun writing this! Jack and William poke a great deal fun at the aristocracy over a game of cards at their own rumfilled tea party.

46. Tiny Chips of the Truth - Quiet one shot. William and Jack have yet another conversation over mugs of rum on the deck of the mighty Black Pearl. They both know the value of respect, these days.

47. The Most Legendary - A "deleted scene" from my FINALLY COMPLETE long fiction, "The Other Side of the Island"... Jack talks to a new four-footed friend, who helped him and Will, Elizabeth, and Jack's lady love, Janie, with a daring rescue during the long story! Sweet one shot!

48. Avast - Very bittersweet one shot. A 17 year old Jack meets 3 year old Will Turner, who reminds young Jack of what his lost childhood was like, at one time long ago.

49. Desiderata - Touching one shot. Set during my long story, "Thicker Than Water", and inspired by a surprising bit about Jack on the new AWE dvd set. While caring for a badly injured Jack, William, Elizabeth and Gibbs ponder a very long poem that is tattooed on his back.

50. Ahhh, the Pleasure! - Short, sweet fluffy one shot. Jack is pleased by the warm, talented hands of his beloved Irish lassie... and it's not what you think! LOL!

51. In a Longboat, Such as This - Introspective, thoughtful one shot. Elizabeth ponders all of the important events that took place in an everyday, mundane longboat...

52. The Pirate King of Rum - A funny, fluffy story of New Year's Eve aboard the Black Pearl, and Jack's new title for himself!

53. Wild Horses - Thoughtful, amusing one shot. Captain Teague thinks about his son, as he plays his guitar at Shipwreck City.

54. Fittin' - Jack and his crew visit Captain Teague on the island of Madagascar, and learn one or two things about what's "fittin'"! Amusing one shot


	2. Courage and Fortitude

۞

"...they done wot's right by them... can't expect more'n that..."

Will turned around from rowing the longboat from the dank, dark treasure cave of Isla da Muerta and stared at the back of Captain Jack Sparrow. The captain was gazing ahead of him at the waiting HMS Dauntless, not at his beloved Black Pearl. After all that they had been through, he was not heading for freedom, for the horizen, for the life that had eluded him for ten long years...

The pirate captain then started to remove all of the treasure that he had ostentatiously draped himself with after the curse of the Aztec gold had been broken... one by one, he began to delicately let the jewels slip through his slender fingers into the water... _splash... splash...splash_...

No, he was not heading for freedom. He was a convicted criminal. He was heading for arrest, for shackles and the noose. He was heading for the "most certain death" that he always spoke of when swearing in a new member of his crew... now he had no crew, no ship, and soon he would have no life.

Will thought about that day on the dock in Tortuga... and he had seen this man display the most "courage and fortitude" that he had ever seen, yet he now had nothing. Will almost felt as though he, himself, was the executioner. He knew that he would not be able to bear watching the captain be shackled once they reached the Dauntless, not after all that Jack had risked for them... Will would have to turn away.

Captain Jack Sparrow lifted the heavy, bejeweled crown slowly from his own head, and lowered it to the surface of the water. Elizabeth and Will both watched in sadness as the captain hesitated, letting the beautiful treasure create small, glistening ripples along the surface, as though it was the bow of a tiny boat... then he let the crown slip from his grasp, and sink into the darkness. He then hung his head. He had felt like a king for a short while... now he did not feel like a king, he did not even feel like a pirate captain... he did not feel anything, at all, except despair.

They could not think of anything to say to comfort him.

After a moment, he raised his head up, then turned around in the boat and regarded the young couple. His eyes had lost their sparkle... they were deep pools of darkness... no light in them, now... but he smiled at them sadly, that trademark golden smile, and said, "Oi... no worries, you two. I took th' gamble, an' lost, eh? Bound to catch up wif me. At least ye have each other, again...an' me Pearl is in th' hands o' ones tha' were me friends... once..." He again turned his back to them, and said softly, "... ye'd both make fine pirates... much better than daft Jack Sparrow..." He hung his head, again. He huddled his arms around himself... he looked very small.

Will resumed rowing... "That's _Captain_... _Captain_ Jack Sparrow..."

Jack turned his head slightly, "Aye... Captain Jack Sparrow... maybe they'll hang me bones at th' mouth of Port Royal Bay wif th' rest o' them. 'Pirates, Ye Be Warned.'" The captain chuckled softly.

"...I wonder if anyone will remove their hat an' salute me?"

They rowed on in silence... toward the gallows.

۞


	3. Stopping the Sand

۞

The night was hot and abomidibly humid, even for Jamaica. The air was so thick that it seemed that the young blacksmith might have been able to cut the very air into pieces with one of the fine swords that emerged from his rough, craftsman's hands. Will Turner was sharpening a blade with dogged determination, his hands repeating the strokes with the stone out of habit, his mind going back over the events of the day.

He paused for only a moment to wipe the sweat from his face, then resumed his task. He was thinking about the recent past, and pondering the plan that was forming in his mind...

Earlier in the day, Will had gone to the garrison at Fort Charles, to the cells that held prisoners, enemies of the crown. Desperate criminals, all. Convicted of a variety of crimes, the worst of all being piracy. He had gone there to visit a friend...someone who, in his opinion, should have gotten more leniency in his sentence, a friend who had helped rescue Elizabeth Swann in an unbelievable and herioc manner, yet was awaiting execution at the gallows in four day's time.

Will, himself, had been granted clemency from Elizabeth's father, as soon as they had reached Port Royal... his friend had been thrown into the Dauntless' dark and filthy brig, into a cell with no place to sit except on the floorboards, on dirty straw, and with dampness creeping in from a slow leak in the hull. He was not allowed any visitors, and spent the voyage back to Jamaica in lonely solitude. Will wanted to see that his friend was being treated in a humane manner now that they were back in Port Royal... that he was not being abused and was being fed food fit for human consumption.

When he got to the garrison, he was told that he could only visit his cohort in piracy with an armed escort, and only for three minutes. Will knew that he was lucky to have even that long to converse with Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Will!" came the surprised response from the captain when Will came down the steps to the cells. Jack stood up directly and came over to the bars with a genuine smile on his face, "Lad, what brings ye here t' visit th' condemned man wot ye had such a grand adventure wif, eh?" He went to put his hand through the bars, and found a loaded musket pointed straight at his head... he delicately withdrew his hand and regarded the guard with large eyes.

"Three minutes!" the guard said, roughly.

"... thank you," Will was polite, but cool. He turned to Jack and said, "Jack! I'm glad to see you. How are you? Are they feeding you anything that passes for food, here?"

Jack chuckled and nodded his head toward the bowl on the floor of the cell, filled with a strange looking liquid and with a spoon stuck in it. It was a very odd color, and the flies that buzzed around it seemed reluctant to land near it, as if they, also, were repulsed. "Seaweed Swill, if you please, Mr. Turner. This establishment is not known fer its marvelous victuals, if ye catch me drift, savvy?" Jack wrinkled up his nose at the bowl; Will stared at it and could not help but do the same.

"I will make sure that you get better, Jack..."

"Two minutes!"

"How's yer bonnie lass, boy?"

Will face reddened. "You know that she is not my lass, Jack... Elizabeth is engaged to be married to Commodore Norrington..."

The captain rolled his eyes and looked at the young man seriously, "D'ye mean t' tell me tha' ye haven't told her tha' ye love her, William? What th' hell is holdin' ye back, boy?"

Will shook his head and said, "I did not come here to talk about Elizabeth, Jack... I came to..."

Jack cut him off straight away, "Will, I am going t' die. There ain't no gettin' around it this time. There is no point or purpose t' ye bein' worried about me state, here. Ye need t' be worried about how ye're gonna take Elizabeth fer yer own! It sure as hell wasn't Norrington who was goin' through hell an' high water t' save th' girl, now was it? Ye need t' reco'nize yer pirate blood, boy, an' take wot ye want!" Jack was leaning forward as far as he could and not annoy the guard, who was growing bored with this short exchange.

"... Jack..."

"William, listen t' me, will ya?" the captain carefully placed his fingertips on the bars of the cell, watching the guard carefully. "... I am only goin' t' say one thing, lad. Look at me..."

"One minute!"

Will looked at Jack, wishing that they were not talking with iron bars between them. Jack tilted his head to one side and said, "Ye need to go after her, Will. She agreed t' marry Norrington wif th' stipulation tha' you were rescued, lad. Ye need t' tell her how ye feel. I've lost me Pearl, don't allow Elizabeth t' slip through yer fingers like sand tha' easily! If ye do... an' I hang... what did either of us gain by what we went through?" The captain paused, and smiled sadly, "No one can change my situation, lad... I am goin' t' die... but you can change _your _situation. Think about it..."

"Time's up!" the guard grabbed Will's arm and started to pull the young man back up the stairs. Will turned and pulled his arm free, then offered his hand to Jack, wordlessly. Jack tentatively reached through the bars, and shook the blacksmith's hand. Will looked at Jack, who was staring at him with world weary dark eyes and a somber face. Will could feel the captain's eyes watching his back as he turned and went back up the stairs. "Remember wot I said, son... don't allow her t' slip through your fingers like so much sand...like I let th' Pearl slip through my fingers..."

The young man returned to the smithy and tried to return to his work... he could not apply himself properly to work without damaging the blades or himself, so he resorted to sharpening his own blade. With each stroke of the stone, he formed his plan... with each stroke of the stone, he vowed...with each stroke of the stone, he made certain that the sword would be sharp enough to trim a blade of grass, or sharp enough to penetrate anything once he threw it with pinpoint accuracy...

He wiped the sweat from his face one more time. He then sheathed his sword into it's scabbard at his side, then quietly opened the door to the smithy. He stood there for only a moment, then closed the door behind him. Jack would be hung at 9:00AM on the upcoming Friday morning...there wasn't much time... Elizabeth would be on the viewing stand with her fiance'.

Will made his decision. He would not let Elizabeth slip through his fingers, nor would he let Jack slip through the trap door of the gallows... Will Turner headed through the dark and humid streets toward the taverns. He knew that this would be the best place to learn of the whereabouts of the Black Pearl... so as to stop the sand from slipping through his fingers.

۞


	4. At Nine Bells

_**Disclaimer: **__Mine, only in me black pirate heart_.

۞

_"... the hanging will take place Friday morning, at nine bells." Will whispered to Marty, desperately._

_The small pirate's eyes widened, "Tha' don' give us much time, Mr. Will!"_

_"... you MUST be there. There is no choice if this is to work. Just have the Pearl ready, and be there."_

_"... Aye, Will. We will have the Pearl repaired, an' we'll be there! That a promise!"_

These thoughts ran through young Turner's mind over and over, over and over. He looked out over the square at the gathered crowd... vultures, he thought bitterly. He looked up at the viewing stand where his love stood next to Governor Swann and Commodore Norrington. No cold smiles there.

He turned his eyes to the gallows, and to the dark, slender man with a noose around his neck, whose fate was now in William's rough blacksmith hands. A good man. An honorable man, in his own way. A man that had taught him much, changing him from a naive boy into a much wiser young man.

Thanks were in order.

William Turner the Second took a deep breath...

... and stepped into destiny.

۞


	5. Sullied

_**Author's note: **My thoughts on one scene in "Dead Man's Chest"... the cold cruelty of Davy Jones. _

۞

_'Sullied an' unusual', eh? So I __was__ able t' get int' tha' elusive, warped mind o' yours, Sparra. I heard ye tell yer first mate tha' ye felt 'sullied an' unusual', an' I saw th' look tha' crossed yer face as I removed th' Black Spot from yer devious, scurvy hand...I inflicted pain, didn't I? 'Sullied an' unusual', indeed... poor little bird!_

_I knew tha' ye would not want t' leave th' Turner whelp behind, but now young Turner will rue th' day tha' he ever met ye! Ye're bad luck, Sparra... ye're bad luck t' yerself an' all tha' cross yer path. Turner an' his father might have called themselves yer friends, but not after ye leave them behind... o' course, tha's __my__ doin', but they don't know that... they'll think ye t' be a heartless, selfish bastard, Sparra, an' ye can deal wi' th' loneliness o' losin' their friendship whilst ye're spending yer afterlife in yer own personal hell. They'll never know tha' it was me what made ye leave 'em because I got int' yer head. I enjoyed twisting yer thoughts about... too bad tha' th' Turner whelp will never know tha' ye tried t' get 'im back, twice... _

_What did ye expect? I raised yer bloody ship fer ye thirteen years ago, an' we had an accord, but bein' a pirate, meself, I never expected ye t' keep yer end o' the bargain, no matter how many foolish scabs out there say tha' ye might have a bit o' honor about ye. I bided my time, knowin' tha' ye would be yer own undoin'. Yer a fool, Sparra. I still have quite a quandary wi' believin' tha' you, of all people, are a Pirate Lord. _

_Ye have three days, Sparra, three days t' harvest souls t' repay yer debt t' me an' me ship... an' three hundred years would never be enough. I removed th' Black Spot, but in removin' it, I also gained somethin' else... knowledge...a tidbit o' fortuitous information t' use against ye... I got int' yer mind, Sparra... an' I can now make sure tha' ye have a Locker made just especially fer a mongrel like ye... made t' __break__ ye... made t' inflict __damage__... made t' __punish__ ye... after I have th' Kraken take ye! _

_I found out from yer own mind what it is tha' ye fear! Aye, ye fear death... but with no one else in yer own Locker... wi' no wind, nor sea...wi' no night...only burning white sun... wi' only yer precious scuppered Black Pearl, embraced by hot dry sand, t' keep ye company for eternity, you'll wish ye were simply dead... _

_...all alone in the Locker, Sparra... do you fear..._

_...madness?_

۞


	6. Mayhem

۞

Will Turner pondered mayhem...he pondered his friend, Captain Jack Sparrow...

Even as his life was hanging in the balance over the cursed Aztec gold, he was fascinated by this man who was very much like an Indian cobra...weaving to and fro, his delicate hands waving in unison as the punctuated his words... his eyes never leaving his opponent's... mesmerizing...

Sparrow was a master at this, yet Will never actually saw him hurt anyone, save for Barbossa. The young man fully expected that Jack would kill Barbossa when the opportune moment presented itself, yet, in it's own strange way, it would be justified. It was simply not something that Sparrow did naturally.

What Jack did do, naturally, was create insane mayhem... as he did when he escaped his first capture on the docks in Port Royal, sailing through the air with shackled wrists... as he did during a swordfight in a blacksmith's shop, not following the rules of engagement... as he did when he and the young blacksmith commandeered the Interceptor right under the noses of the Royal Navy, and set sail for Tortuga... as he did when he tossed a sword to Will in the treasure cave, and they fought Barbossa and his cursed crewmen, each of them knowing exactly what the other was going to do next.. as he did, when he returned to his ship and shot a round through a cargo net full of powder kegs, to drive off the terrible Kraken...

The man walked through mayhem as though it were a stroll along a beach... he was devious, yes, but much like a mischievious child in order to get his way... he was not always to be trusted by most, but could be by some... he was not a killer, he was not a rapist, but he was a pirate, and had to do what needed to be done to survive.

Somehow, Will found himself understanding this odd man, now... Will, himself, was getting very good at creating mayhem; he had learned from the best... he was thankful, now, after all was over with At World's End, that he'd had the best man, a good man, Jack Sparrow, on his side...

He smiled at Sparrow, who smiled back...Mayhem... times two...

۞


	7. Trinkets

۞

Will looked across his mug of rum, "...Jack?"

"...Hm?...", came the high pitched reply from the man across the table, from under the hat pulled down over his eyes. The captain pushed his hat back and looked at William.

"Why do you wear beads and trinkets in your hair?"

"Wha' ye mean 'why, William?"

"...Just that. Why?"

Jack leaned forward, and looked thoughtful. "To remind me o' places I've been, people I've met... things I've done. I like th' jinglin' noise they make," he shook his head to demonstrate. "I ties 'em in me hair because I have more hair than I have pockets, eh?" He winked.

Will regarded the different trinkets, and smiled. "Do you have a favorite?"

Jack looked crosseyed at the strand on the left side of his face, then at the single bright blue coin dangling from the right side, "... I likes tha' one..." he mused. His delicate fingers made their way up to the top of his red bandana, where they touched the sharp, tooth shaped object draped down over his forehead. "...but this one is the one I never wish t' lose..."

Will looked at Jack for a long moment, and said quietly, "I don't blame you."

Sparrow regarded his younger companion in silence as they both sipped their rum. He then silently got up from his chair and disappeared for a moment... he returned and tossed a small object across the table. "Tha's for you, mate... was savin' it t' give it t' ye for a special occasion, but now's as good as ever...no one should be wif'out one..."The captain hesitated, "... In case somethin' should happen tha' we never see each other again, eh?"

Will looked at it and smiled widely. The object was on a long narrow leather string, with colorful Oriental beads embellishing it at intervals. It was beautiful. Will tied it around his neck, and raised his mug. "... that won't happen, mate. We won't let it..." Jack smiled and they tapped their mugs together.

They fell into a comfortable silence. Everyone should have a lucky Kraken tooth.

۞


	8. Dolphins

۞

Elizabeth looked down to the water rushing past the bow of the Black Pearl, as she cut her way through like a hot knife through butter.

"What ye watchin', lass?" She heard Joshamee Gibbs' voice, as he leaned up against the railing to look.

Elizabeth pointed in delight. "Dolphins! They have been practically dancing in the water's wake since we left port in Tripoli!" They both watched the beautiful sleek animals as they accompanied the dark ship out to open sea, occasionally jumping up in the water, nearly in flight as their gray faces smiled.

"That's a good omen, Miss Elizabeth! Dolphins are always good luck," Gibbs smiled. Such a beautiful sight on this sunny morning.

Elizabeth laughed and said, "Joshamee, why is it that you always said that a woman aboard a ship is bad luck?"

Mr. Gibbs grinned down at her, a lovely sight with her shining hair and happy eyes, and replied, "I have come t' find out tha' one ain't necessarily true. I thinks now tha' sometimes bad luck jus' happens t' some folks..."

She saw him turn to look at the captain of the Black Pearl at the helm, wheel in hand, talking to Will Turner at his side.

Bad luck had followed Jack Sparrow like a shadow in recent months... but this morning there were dolphins, and they were bodacious good luck... just like the young couple that the captain had taken such a shine to.

It would be a fine morning at sea. He watched the dolphins pirouetting with the mighty Black Pearl.

۞


	9. A Friendly Game of Dice

۞

"... William, can ye see through things??? 'Cause if ye can, I ain't rollin' th' dice wif ye!"

Captain Will Turner laughed out loud at Captain Jack Sparrow's apprehension over playing a game of Liar's Dice with him. "No, Jack, I can't see through things. I can transport myself from one spot to the next, faster than you can say 'savvy', but seeing through things is not one of my new talents."

Jack frowned at him suspiciously; then his look softened, and he asked, a bit apprehensively, "... how are ye, lad? Are ye really doin' okay wif th' way tha' things turned out?" His deep, dark eyes searched Will's, as the new captain of the Flying Dutchman looked back at him with mild surprise.

"Yes, Jack. I am fine with things. I have a duty to fulfill, my Elizabeth waiting for me, my father serving with me on my ship..."

Jack's face had gone from concerned to sadness. "...are ye sure?" He needed to hear it for himself that he didn't condemn his friend to a life of misery. Will smiled broadly, "Jack, you don't understand. If Elizabeth and I prove our love and faithfulness to each other, Calypso has promised that I will not have to serve for eternity. I can return to Elizabeth and live out my life."

Jack's eyes grew huge, "...But what about..."

Will narrowed his eyes and raised his eyebrows, holding up both index fingers, much like Jack would, still smiling, "I am cursed to stay for eternity, seeing my wife for just one day every ten years, _only_ if Elizabeth or I fall prey to weakness. I have total faith in both of us, Jack. Elizabeth proved her true love to me, just as you proved to all of us that you are a very good man. Goes to prove that you don't know it all, Jack. Maybe I can join you on the Pearl once I am released from the Dutchman?"

Jack nodded, uncertainly, mulling this over... it felt strange... the whelp had grown so much wiser during Jack's time in the Locker, and Jack sometimes felt as though, he, himself, was slipping badly... his dark face grew somber as he looked around the deck of the Flying Dutchman. Jack's small dinghy was tied up to the side, proudly waving it's little homemade pirate flag with it's flying sparrow. He looked back at Will and shrugged, "I may never get my ship back, William. Maybe I don't deserve to have my Pearl as me own..." his voice trailed off, sadly, and he looked down at the mug of rum that Will had poured for him.

The truth of the matter was that Will was able to "see" things that he didn't tell his friend... that he knew Jack had bravely set out on his own, in yet another tiny stolen boat, his stubborn heart set on more adventures, and hoping to find the Black Pearl... but Will also knew that Jack Sparrow was changed. He was seeing things that weren't there, talking to himself, and getting a vacant look in his eyes that had been appearing there, now and then, ever since he was found in the Locker. He was taking crazy chances, endangering himself, without even knowing it most of the time. Will knew that his friend was playing a dangerous game going out all alone on the sea since his ship was commandeered by Captain Hector Barbossa - playing a dangerous game with the Royal Navy. Jack was not seeing things at all clearly, even though he had the utmost self confidence that he was.

Will also knew that Jack may never see his beloved ship, again, if it were up to him to try to get her back all alone. Will leaned forward on his elbows, his shirt opening a bit at the front, revealing the large scar across his chest. "Jack... I know that you have lost the Pearl, and I know how much that hurts you... and I want you to stay on my ship for a few days. It's alright... We both need to sort some things out, and I think it would be good for the both of us to bounce some ideas off of each other, eh?"

Jack looked up, and looked puzzled for a moment, "William, why can I visit ye aboard th' Dutchman, an' Elizabeth can't? That's a part of th' curse, isn't it? Ye can't have th' ones tha' ye love aboard, can ye?"

Will paused for a long moment, then reached over and patted his friend's arm, "... well, let's just say that I am not allowed to have Elizabeth aboard... it might be called a curse, but I prefer to call it a 'test'... I _am_ allowed to have some loved ones aboard to visit..." William hesitated, then said, ".. such as the man that I consider to be my best friend. The man that I plan to help in any way that I can in order to get his own ship back..."

Jack looked up at the young man that he also considered to be his best friend, and said quietly, "Ye'd do that, William? After all tha' we've gone through, ya'd help me catch up t' me Pearl an' get her back from Barbossa?"

"... the sea is my home, now, too, Jack. And I need you and the Pearl at ready. We are a good team, you and I. I am sure that we can convince Captain Barbossa to see things our way." Will picked up his own mug of rum and studied his companion.

Jack had been silent for some time. He finally looked up and smiled brightly. "Me little companion, here, " he pointed to his shoulder, a shoulder with nothing on it except long, dark hair, "... me little companion tells me tha' ye're right. Ye'll help me t' get me ship back, an' me an' me Pearl will be 'round whenever Captain William-I-Used-t'-Be-A-Blacksmith Turner needs us, savvy?"

Will nodded to Jack's "little imaginary companion" that was _supposedly _sitting on his slender friend's shoulder, and winked. "Good call, mate. I hope that you can keep giving my friend Jack such sound advice."

William looked up at Captain Jack Sparrow, and smiled in the lantern light that now spilled over the deck of the beautifully reborn Flying Dutchman... the new, young, handsome captain shook the cup containing the dice, and said, "How about a game, my friend?"

Jack nodded, but narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. "William, are ye _sure _tha' ye can't see th' dice somehow?"

Will sighed and rolled his eyes.

۞


	10. Earrings

_**Author's note: **__From yet another suggestion by PirateofSherwood. Thanks, mate! Pirate Cat raises her mug of rum and winks, again!_

۞

"...William, I need t' be askin' ye somethin' tha' has puzzled me, if ye don' mind."

"... Aye, Jack, what is it?" Captain William Turner was tallying up what his total winnings were from several hours of whiling away the evening, playing Liar's Dice with his friend, Captain Jack Sparrow. They had quite a little pile of peanuts on the table, and it seemed that William, surprisingly, was winning them. It was a balmy evening on the sea, and the lantern light was flickering above their heads. They could hear the soft banging of Jack's small boat against the side of the Flying Dutchman as the the dark moonless sky enveloped what seemed to be the entire ocean.

"When I last saw ye... before... well, you know... before..."

"Before the Kraken finally took you and the Pearl to the depths, and all of our worlds changed?"

Jack thought about the profundity of that statement and how petty his question seemed to be, now. He frowned, and suddenly wished that he hadn't said anything. He tried to think of another puzzlement... and couldn't.

William looked up from his figuring and said, "What? What is puzzling you?"

Jack decided that it was best to simply ask, no matter how silly it seemed. "Why did'ja decide t' wear a gold earring? Ye never wore one before."

William was startled at first, and then smiled a little... this was Jack Sparrow, after all, and his mind was not like anyone else's, especially now. He took a deep breath and a sip from his mug. "...we were on our way to Singapore, to meet with Sao Feng in order to obtain the charts to find you, and I was having a very hard time... I did not like taking orders from Hector, I hated that I thought Elizabeth loved you, and not me...I was trying to hate you..." he said softly. William held up his hand when Jack started to say something, "... I know, Jack... I know, now...that is behind us, mate." Jack remained silent, and William continued.

"... as we were sailing and Elizabeth and I were not speaking, I remembered our adventures... I remembered all of the things that you had told me during our voyage to Tortuga on the Interceptor. I questioned your motives, many times, but essentially, you forced me to grow up, Jack. You taught me about the real world... that it is not always a pretty, safe, simple place. You taught me, against my brash nature, to wait for the opportune moment. I remembered seeing the two silver hoops that you wear in your left ear, one time when the wind blew all of your hair back." William looked earnestly at his friend, and said, "... I knew that all of the beads and trinkets that you wear each have a story behind them... I knew that the earrings were no different. I wanted an earring made of gold... to force me to remember to wait for the golden opportune moment... to hope that things will someday be better... to hope that Elizabeth still loved me, and that I was not wrong about you...and to remember a friendship that I was afraid was gone, forever...I tried very hard, but I simply could not hate you because of all that you taught me. I wear the earring... for patience... for hope... and especially to remember what makes a good man," William took another sip from his mug, and looked at Jack in silence.

The captain let all of this sink in... he had not expected an answer such as that. He reached up under his hair and fingered the two silver hoops that were hidden there. His eyes became distant for a long moment, as they were prone to do since his time on The Other Side. He spoke, "... These silver earrings also have a story. The silver is from a Spanish coin that was in me pocket th' night tha' Cutler Beckett burned me ship out from under me. Even after I nearly drowned, was almost beaten t' death, then branded, I still had that coin. As ye know, yer father saved me life, an' made sure tha' me effects were looked after, includin' th' coin...once I had recovered from me injuries an' was learnin' how t' be th' best pirate I could be, I had that coin made into two earrings... an' I have worn them in th' same ear ever since."

Jack sipped his own rum, as William listened, "... one represents th' man tha' I was, th' other is the man tha' I became... one represents the Wicked Wench, one represents th' ship that she was reborn as, the Black Pearl... one represents what a man can do, th' other represents what a man can't do...an' finally..." Jack looked William square in the eyes and said, "... one represents me enemies... an' one represents me friends... I don't always know me enemies, but I know damn good an' well who me friends are... p'raps I should also have one represent me, an' one represent me _best _friends..."

Silence once again came over the pair, as Jack's little wooden dinghy bumped against the side of the Flying Dutchman... it was almost a comfortable sound, as if the two sailing vessels were also friends, talking to one another. William Turner the Second looked at his friend, Jack Sparrow, and nodded... they both raised their mugs, and tapped them together... "Here's to friends, mate... and to hope... and to earrings..."

Jack smiled, and his gold teeth shined in the lantern light.

۞


	11. Fathers and Sons

۞

"Nice place ye got here, William," Captain Jack Sparrow swiveled his head and his dark eyes all around, taking in the large and spacious captain's cabin of the newly reborn Flying Dutchman. The ghost ship's woodwork was now highly polished and rich in color, the windows were sparkling clean, the deck and floorboards smooth as glass... not even so much as a shadow of the foreboding vessel that she had been under Captain Davy Jones.

Captain William Turner looked over the edge of his mug as took a drink of his rum. He also looked about his surroundings and said, matter of factly, "It'll do. There used to be a pipe organ in here, you know."

Jack's eyes popped. "A pipe organ???"

Will nodded, simply, "Aye. Over there." He pointed with a toss of his head toward a wall full of deep walnut bookshelves.

Jack shook his head, and muttered, "A pipe organ. Never noticed it when I was here taking the chest..." He cleared his throat a bit, "... never mind that... a pipe organ...no ship should be wifout one..."

William's father and first mate, Bootstrap Bill Turner, also looked about the cabin with pride. "Aye, Jack, th' Dutchman is nothin' like she was when Jones was her captain... my son, here, will be th' finest captain th' ship will ever know... and he will only be here a short time, mark me words, mate."

Jack and Bootstrap had been best friends many years ago, when Jack was a very young man, just as Jack and Will were best friends, now. It was because of Will's sense of commitment and his loyalty to his loved ones that he was the captain of the Dutchman, and it was also because of his loyalty to the friend who had spared him a final death that the three of them were having the very conversation at hand. They were coming up with a plan to take back Jack Sparrow's very heart and soul... his ship, the Black Pearl. The Pearl had been commandeered by Captain Hector Barbossa, and they needed to decide what to do about it.

William had found Jack sailing along in the middle of the ocean with nothing but a map, his compass and several bottles of rum. Young Turner had plucked him and his tiny dinghy from the stormy sea, as it was William's opinion that Jack had no business being alone, any longer... his mind was quite unsound since their adventures At World's End, and William feared the worst for his friend, if he were left to his own devices. He would be fine aboard the Pearl, as his decision making processes as far as a ship and crew were still fine, for the most part, but decisions for _himself_ were downright frightening. Jack, of course, was unaware of William's fears, and William hoped to keep it that way.

During this conversation. William finally looked squarely at Jack, who was staring vacantly at the sunset that was streaming through the window, and said, "Look, mate, it's the Pearl that we are going after, and you have barely said a word..."

Jack jumped a little at the mild rebuke, then looked at William. Seeing the troubled look in Jack's brown eyes, William hesitated, then gently asked, "What is it, Jack?"

The pirate captain's kohl lined eyes looked from William, to Bootstrap, then back again. He raised his hands as if to speak, then dropped them to the table top, laying them flat, and stared at the backs of them.

Finally, he spoke. "I was just thinkin'... here I am... wif me best friends... you an' yer dad... both o' ye are tryin' t' help me..." He frowned, "...an' where is _my _father?"

Silence fell.

Jack continued, still staring at the backs of his hands, and with a tone to his voice that was quiet and odd, even for him, "... he was never around... always seemed like he wanted t' be someplace else whenever he was 'round me...at Shipwreck Cove, he called me 'boy' in front of th' other Pirate Lords an' Elizabeth, an' he pushed me aside... I spoke t' him, even though I knew he didn't want t' talk t' me... I sarcastically asked 'im, 'how's Mum?'... hell, she has been dead fer 30 years, an' he don' know where she's buried any more 'n' I do, so sarcasm was in order, as far as I was concerned... yet, he held up a shrunken head wif sarcasm even deeper than mine... said it was her..." Jack sighed, "Sick sense o' humor, he has.."

He continued, shaking his head from side to side, unconsciously. Beads jingled together. "He has only been in me life fer only a few hours at a time out o' me 36 years...an' those hours include th' short time it took him an' me mother to create me. Yet..."

Jack paused, then finally he looked up at his companions, ".. . why is it so important t' me that he finally took 'is hat off an' saluted me after th' battle in th' maelstrom? Why is that so important t' me, I wonder? I was hopin' it was me. Was he saluting me?" His confused eyes turned to William's, "... or _you_?"

His voice trailed off, and his eyes searched theirs for answers. He waited, staring at the stunned Turners.

Bootstrap broke the silence. "It was you, Jack. It had nothing to do with anyone, or anything else. Ye showed 'im what you are made of. He was saluting you to let you know what we have known all along..."

William smiled at his friend, "... We have known all along that Captain Jonathan Teague was incapable of talking to his own son... incapable of showing feelings to him. He was finally able to find a way to tell his son that he is _proud _of him."

Jack's face became hopeful, "Do ye really think so?"

His companions nodded and smiled. Jack sighed a little, then straightened up in his chair, "The man still has a sick sense o' humor... he fathered _me_, didn't he?" He shook his head again, and shrugged, chuckling.

William and Bootstrap laughed along with their friend. William poured another round of rum, and grinned, "Most of the time, we're _glad _that he did... _most _of the time! Now... about our plans for taking back the Black Pearl... "

"Aye, Jack, " Bootstrap grinned, "We have two secret weapons... Captain William Turner, and his Flying Dutchman...I think Hector may have forgotten that you have some rather persuasive friends, 'savvy'?"'

As darkness folded itself around the sea and the ghost ship, Jack finally grinned back, a gold tooth sparkling in the candlelight that illuminated the magnificent cabin. He felt the same old familiar warmth from the man who was like a father to him, all those years ago. "Savvy, mate..."

He turned to the man who had become like a brother to him, and the trio continued their planning into the velvety, dark moonless nighttime...

۞


	12. An Accord

۞

"Calypso summoned me to meet with you..."

The words came from a tall, pale man, whose voice was burdened and deep, sad yet dignified. He stood before the two men who were standing shoulder to shoulder on the deck of the magnificent Flying Dutchman. The captain of the ship, William Turner the Second gazed steadily at his guest, sizing him up before speaking. His companion, shorter and slight of build, slouched in a relaxed stance, one hand resting casually on the hilt of a cutlass in its scabbard, and the other hand draped lazily over the handle of a pistol that was shoved into his sash. A battered leather tricorn hat sat crookedly upon his red bandana'ed head. The pristine white sails of the ship fluttered just as casually above their heads.

The tall young Captain Turner spoke, his own bandana blowing over his broad shoulder. "The curse of the Flying Dutchman as been lifted from me. I have absolved the sins of my predecessor, and the sins of the ship that the Dutchman used to be. She still ferries the souls of departed mariners to their final destination, but she does not require an oath of service before the mast... she has been returned to her true purpose... her true mission. She is in need of a new captain, as I plan to rejoin mortal life with my wife..."

His companion at his side leaned over to his left and whispered, and then nodded seriously... to no one. The tall man that they were addressing stared at him.

Will looked at his companion at his side and shook his head, then continued speaking to the figure before them. "... we recovered Captain Sparrow's ship, and he has graciously agreed to provide passage for me to join my wife... to reclaim my living heart..."

The tall, almost ghostly figure before them spoke, "I don't understand. I thought that the ship needs a living heart... something that I cannot provide..."

William nodded, and replied, "I knew that you would question that. It has been proven to Calypso that it is no longer a living heart that the Flying Dutchman needs. She needs a captain of strong honor and good soul. A man of great courage and conviction, capable of love and of devotion to duty, to guide her and carry her through her assigned task. It is a heart of a different ilk; you, sir, possess those qualities."

The man lowered his head, and spoke, "I cannot think of a more honorable task that this vessel undertakes. The Flying Dutchman is a beautiful ship, capable of miraculous things... she has a purpose... I need purpose... _I must have purpose, also..._" he fell silent for a moment, then continued, "... I must have a purpose, and an absolution of my own sins..."

Jack finally spoke, gently, "Ye've already paid more than any one of us fer any sins tha' you might have commited. Perhaps your worst sin was th' wrong sort of ambition... an' you paid wif yer life, mate..."

The figure looked up at the pirate captain, with pleading eyes, "... I commited one of the worst sins that a man could against you. I was partially responsible for sending you to your doom... can I be absolved of that sin, Captain Sparrow?"

Jack smiled a little, "As I said... ye've already paid, son."

The tall man looked directly at William, and finally said, "...if I can serve the Dutchman to further the fine work that you have done, Captain Turner, then I shall be proud to accept your offer. I need purpose in my afterlife, and this is better than any commission that any man has offered to me. I do accept."

William smiled broadly, and offered his hand. It was accepted. An accord between two gentlemen. William then took the man by the shoulder, and they all proceeded up to the quarterdeck, where a small ceremonial table had been set up. Upon that table was a document, a quill pen and inkwell, and a beautiful artisan made sword in its heavily ornamented scabbard. It was then that Jack took over. He cleared his voice loudly, then proceeded.

"William has entrusted me wif th' witnessin' of the signin' of an agreement betwixt th' two o' ye... an accord in writin'... statin' tha' ye will take over as th' Captain o' the Flyin' Dutchman, wif his father, William Turner th' First, stayin' on t' help ye learn yer new duties fer as long as ye need him. William Turner th' Second also agrees, to wit, t' help ye in any ways tha' his mortal body will allow in aidin' ye t' continue t' carry on th' good works tha' he has been workin' so hard on workin' on." His hand stopped waving gracefully in circles, and he leaned forward. "... an' this is fer you. Ye might recognise it..."

William took the scabbard from Jack, and handed it solemnly to the tall man before him. The intense green eyes of their companion misted over slightly, as he recognized his own sword, from another life, a long time ago. His hands caressed it lovingly, and he accepted the fine weapon with great dignity.

They signed the agreement, and the man seemed to straighten with pride. He placed his hands on the beautiful walnut wheel of the Dutchman, and his ghostly pale face brightened with a smile... it had been so long since he had _smiled_.

After all was done, Jack put an arm around William's shoulders and finally said, warmly, "...Yer work here is done, lad... your wife is waitin' for ye..." William nodded, and turned to look around at the ship that he had worked so hard for... worked so faithfully for... she was a fine vessel indeed. But it was time to pass her along to another, and to return to the life that he had longed for.

"... take care of her... she has a purpose..."

"... thank you, Captain Turner... I shall serve proudly... " was the reply.

"... come on, lad." Jack urged.

Will finally nodded. He knew that he was only a thought away if his father or the new captain of the Dutchman would ever need him... him or Jack, both. He turned to the tall, proud man at the wheel of the ship, and smartly saluted. And for the first time in his life, Captain Jack Sparrow also saluted. The salute was returned by the man that now was glowing with pride... with determination... and with a bit of what some might call ambition. He almost choked on his words, and his eyes glistened, "Please give my love to your wife, Captain Turner... fair winds in your sails... to you, too, Captain Sparrow. Thank you... "

Jack grinned. He knew that the island with Will's beloved was just beyond the horizen... just beyond the Pearl's reach to the west. William smiled also, and turned and said with great feeling, "Fair winds in your sails, Captain..." And with that proclamation, the two friends lowered themselves to the rolling sea in the long boat... toward the waiting Pearl...

There was sudden silence as the tall, pale man was left at the helm of the Flying Dutchman... he was lost in thought... until sometime later, when there was a beautiful flash of green in the sky to the west... and James Norrington closed his eyes and smiled. He finally once more had a purpose... and he felt more alive than he had in a very long time.

۞


	13. Land Legs

۞

It was a glorious day, even if the Black Pearl had docked in a seamy side of Singapore, at a port that was rather dirty, but decidedly pirate-friendly... in spite of the rather unsavory surroundings, the sun was shining brightly and the air was relatively clear, even if it was clouded with a dank fog from the murky water. Jack Sparrow was just about the happiest pirate captain in the world, and was walking down the gangplank in a very sprightly, if wobbly, fashion. Things were definitely on an upswing, after the experiences that he and his friends had all endured at World's End.

At his side was his friend, William Turner the Second, formerly the captain of the spectre of the globe's seas, the Flying Dutchman. After many, many months of servitude to the ship, the handsome young man had been freed of his curse through the efforts of Jack Sparrow, and through the benevolence of the sea goddess, Calypso, herself, toward them. There were conditions that William would have to meet in order to live his life away from the ghost ship, but they were generous conditions, indeed, and William had been reunited with his living heart, and with the love of his life, his wife, Elizabeth. They had recovered Jack's ship from Captain Hector Barbossa through negotiation, and the Turners were traveling with Captain Sparrow and his crew aboard the Pearl. They were stopping in Singapore to take on supplies prior to departing for the Western World, again. William and Jack were to meet Mr. Gibbs and Elizabeth in the marketplace.

Jack was prattling away about this and that, as he and William walked down the gangplank, until he suddenly noticed that he was going along alone, and talking to no one. Since his rescue from The Locker, his mind was quite unhinged, and this going along, talking to no one was not at all unusual, but even in his uncertain mental state, Jack was positive that William had been next to him a moment ago... He turned around to see his friend frozen in place, looking down at the ground, in what seemed to be trepidation. Jack frowned, and turned around in one graceful swaying motion, and went back to see what the trouble might be.

As he approached his young friend, it dawned on Jack what it was... a part of William's terrible curse as the captain of the Dutchman was that he could not set foot upon land. Yet here William was, with his living heart restored, spending every night in the arms of his beautiful wife in their snug cabin upon the Pearl, as right as rain. Jack puzzled about this for a moment, then leaned forward more closely than most people would (but then Captain Jack Sparrow was not most people), and spoke.

"William? Are ye comin' wif me?" Jack's round dark eyes searched William's face, as his delicate hands waved about like as though they were waves of the ocean that was such a part of him, and his head tilted from one side to the other.

William stared at the edge of the gangplank before him, his young face etched with vexation, his eyes holding too many recent memories of the dark times that had just been put behind them. Jack cleared his throat dramatically. As William finally looked at the captain, Jack couldn't help but feel a bit sad for the haunted look on the young man's tanned face. He spoke gently.

"...William... ye're free o' th' curse. If I had me a jar o' dirt, I would sprinkle some o' it on yer toes so's that ye could see tha' steppin' on land will no longer hurt ye." Jack's long fingers touched William's chest ever so lightly, "There is a beatin', livin' heart in there, lad... yer father an' I put it back in there ourselves, so's ye could rejoin yer loved ones, mate... ye have a scar, but tha's all..."

William smiled slightly, and said, "... I know, Jack... I know... I just felt a bit of fear just now, and..."

"Fear?" Jack blinked hard, shaking his head until the beads in his dark dreadlocked hair jingled like wee chimes, his eyebrows shooting up under the edge of his red bandana in surprise. "William, you have never been afraid of anything since I have known ye! I, meself, have sent ye into situations tha' no sane man could ever survive, yet ye never had one ounce o' fear about ye. I knew tha' ye had wot it takes t' get through anythin' tha' was pitched at ye, an' I always had faith tha' ye would be able t' take care o' yourself an' come through... ye've come through this, too, lad... it's over... it's _alright_..."

The captain stepped back, then tossed his head back, and rested his hands upon the hilt of his sword. He smiled reassuringly, and said, "...as yer captain, I am orderin' ye t' step forward, William, on to land..."

William took a deep breath and looked down at his boots, standing at the very edge of the Pearl's gangplank... at the very edge of the cobblestones of the Singapore street before them... the first land that he would step upon in many, many months. He smiled, hesitantly... Jack was right... it could have been ten years, and his friend had come through for him, in more ways than this ... the curse had been lifted... he stepped forward, and set one booted foot firmly on the street.

And in that wonderful moment... absolutely _nothing _happened.

William looked up at Jack, and broke into a huge grin. Jack grinned back, waved his arms out at his side and said, "See?"

As William stepped forward again, he suddenly swayed to one side in a very clumsy fashion, and had to throw his arms out awkwardly toward Jack to catch his balance. "Whoa, Jack!"

Jack laughed softly, and said, "... how long ye been at sea, whelp? Ye lost yer land legs! Yer gonna walk like _me _for a while!"

"Oh, great!" William laughed, as he struggled with his equilibrium, "... I _have _to find my land legs, again! I don't _want _to walk like you!"

And the two of them wobbled on to the marketplace of Singapore, holding each other up, with Jack muttering, "Wot's wrong wif th' way I walk? Maybe I can laugh at _you _for a change... oops there, whelp...how's about some rum?...It certainly can't hurt!...Ooo, bugger... you're heavy, mate!"

William laughed at Jack Sparrow... of all people, Jack Sparrow was holding him up... William took a deep breath again... it felt good to find his land legs, again.

"...Ow... Oi, lad, tha' was me foot.."

"...sorry, Jack!"

۞


	14. Irish Gaelic

۞

"Allright, then, Will, how do ye say 'good day'?"

"_Dia duit_."

"Very good. Now, how 'bout 'I'm William Turner'?"

"_Tá me William Turner_."

Jack Sparrow clapped his hands in polite applause and said, "Yer a natural Irishman, lad... if I ever takes ye back t' me homeland, ye'll fit right in..."

"Jack, tell me again how to say 'I love you'."

"I hope yer wantin' t' say that t' yer wife an' not yer captain," Jack's kohl lined eyes grew round.

Will frowned at him. "Jack!"

"How many times do I have t' repeat it t' ye? Ye're havin' a hard time wif tha' one."

Will blushed a little. "When I say it to Elizabeth, I want to say it correctly."

Jack smiled, "And how would she know if that's wha' yer really sayin', or if yer sayin' 'knit me some bloody socks' or 'I'm drunk as an undead monkey'?"

Will laughed... "She'd know, Jack... she'd know."

"... alright... pay attention...it's _Tá grá agam duit.'"_

Will repeated it flawlessly.

"... yer a shining star, lad, a perfect student... an' tha's comin' from a perfect teacher..."

"Thank you, Jack...

"IN GAELIC!"

Will grinned, " '_Go raibh maith agat, Jack'._"

Jack's face clouded over for a moment... then he said, "Will... do ye know how long it's been since I've had anyone to talk to in Irish Gaelic? ... not since me mother died..."

Will nodded, then said, quietly, "I know, Jack...Jack?"

Jack hesitated, then looked up at the young man.

"... Elizabeth and I should like to visit Ireland with you someday... maybe we could find out where your mother is buried..."

Jack hung his head. "... would ye really like t' visit there someday?"

"Yes, Jack."

The captain looked up with sad eyes. "I'd like tha' too. ..._Go raibh maith agat, William..."_

There was silence for a moment...

"...you're welcome, my friend."

۞


	15. Not To Be Taken For Granted

۞

William Turner the Second sat quietly in a chair and watched the incapacitated captain of the mighty Black Pearl sleep upon this afternoon. The sun was shining brightly outside of Jack Sparrow's cabin, but Jack was in no shape to be at his beloved ship's helm, nor was he in any condition to even simply carry on conversation. He'd just had a tooth pulled in a most unpleasant fashion, and after all that they had all been through at World's End, it might have seemed trivial except for the complete misery that Jack was in.

William sighed. It had been an accident... Elizabeth had socked Jack squarely in the jaw, not intentionally, and he had already lost one tooth, and the one that had been the cause of all of Jack's pain upon this day had been broken off, and was starting to abscess. The couple had been present when Mr. Gibbs actually jerked it from Jack's jaw... he was set into a chair, under much protest, with William holding him down from behind, and Elizabeth holding his head still by folding both of her petite hands over his bandana'd forehead, whilst Gibbs put his pliers into Jack's mouth and got a grip. He moved the pliers back and forth, making a sickening cracking sound as the damaged tooth's roots broke free, and with a resounding "pop", the tooth came out. Jack had promptly turned white, and fainted.

Elizabeth hurriedly stuffed a small wad of gauze into the captain's bleeding mouth, and started to cry a little for being the cause. Jack came to consciousness after only a moment or two, but was so woozy and irritable that he was directly taken to his bunk for a few hours. Once Jack was asleep, Elizabeth left William to watch over Jack for a little while, as she went to quietly get some fresh air and compose herself in order to come back and face her guilt once more. She still had deep feelings of regret for many things that she had done to him in the past... Jack had moved beyond it all, and waved this off as a trifle, with flutters of his eloquent hands, but Elizabeth could not wave it off. William smiled... he tended to agree with Jack these days... they'd had so much happen to them that this was really, in the grand scheme of thing, a trifle...

۞

William found himself in deep thought, as he looked about Jack's cabin. Not so very long ago, all of this would have been completely foriegn to him, as a blacksmith's apprentice. His eyes wandered all about, taking everything in, fully, for the very first time. The cabin was in good order, which, in itself, was odd, considering the mayhem that generally surrounded Captain Jack Sparrow, especially since his rescue from The Locker. The man was not quite right in his head, yet his cabin was as orderly as could be. The desk was as neat as a pin, with every writing instrument in its place, and a neatly capped inkwell. The cabinets were all closed and locked, the built in drawers were all bolted against the rocking of a moving ship, even the Oriental rug upon the floor of the cabin was perfectly centered. Granted, Hector Barbossa had commandeered the Black Pearl in Tortuga, but it had been regained and Jack had certainly had time to mess things up a bit if he had wanted to... William shook his head. Jack was organized. Jack... of all people.

Even the charts that were laid out upon the mahogany table were laid out with great care. The tools of navigation were sitting at the side, lined up perfectly. Suddenly, William became concerned. Was this yet another sign of the madness that Jack had come away from The Locker with? An almost obsessive neatness? To look at the man, himself, one would certainly doubt any notion of neatness! In Jack's own physical appearance, there was always some sort of wonderful orderly disarray. He had expected the same thing of Jack's living quarters... but then, he chuckled to himself, he was doing something that Jack had taught him _not _to do... he was taking things at face value. He knew that he should never take anything at face value... nor should he take things for granted.

William sighed and shook his head to himself. It was not for him to question. Jack Sparrow had taught him everything that mattered. He had taught him that there is no such thing as completely right, and completely wrong... that there was no black and white, only shades of gray. He had taught him that loyalty and friendship sometimes comes in very, very _strange _packages.

Most of all, Captain Jack Sparrow had taught him that there was much more to the world than what meets the sensible and forthright eye... and that one sometimes had to look at things through a skewered mind to know that the world was a much stranger place than what was taught by the narrow minds and unadventuresome souls of Port Royal, Jamaica. What did they know?

The jagged scar across William's own chest stood as a testimonial ... the jagged scar that covered the living, beating heart which had been restored to him with the help of this madman, this pirate, snoring in the bunk. The jagged scar that was like a lightning bolt across his own skin would always remind William Turner the Second of the most important lesson that Captain Jack Sparrow had taught him... to never take anything, or _anyone_, at face value...

...especially his best friend, sleeping off a toothache. Just like the sea, one could never tell what was under the man's surface. Unless, like William, one could finally see under the surface...Jack had always seen under the surface of William Turner the Second, and appreciated what he saw there... At World's End, William had finally swallowed his own blinding pride, and had seen under the surface of Captain Jack Sparrow, and appreciated, also, what he had seen there... he and this man would never take each other at face value... nor would they ever take each other for granted. William was thankful for that.

Jack grunted, and turned over, slowly. He looked at William through bleary eyes, and, rubbing a painful, gauze-stuffed jaw, he sleepily wondered why the hell William was sitting in the chair, looking at him, and smiling like he was.

"...wot ye smilin' at, William?"

"... everything..." was the mysterious, grinning reply. Jack simply nodded, and grinned back at his friend. William learned fast, and learned well... just like his father, he was a good man, good pirate.

"... pour me a wee mug o' painkiller, eh?" Jack chuckled. "... pour one fo' yerself, too. Ye never know when ye might have pain," he said, philosophically, raising a finger for emphasis, "... it's always logical t' stay ahead o' pain... ye never know when ye might be afflicted wif it..."

William liked that logic. It was Jack Sparrow's logic, but like the man, it was not to be taken for granted.

۞


	16. Names

۞

"Well, my middle name is Anne... that would be a nice name if we ever had a girl... and your mother's first name was Mary..."

"Elizabeth, you are not even with child yet, why are you wanting to discuss this so much now?" Will was exasperated. He was standing next to Jack at the helm on this fine morning... enjoying the day, up until now. Jack smiled and stifled a snicker.

Elizabeth looked up from her task of varnishing the rail, and went on, undaunted, "To be prepared, dear husband Will! Jack... what is your given name?"

Jack looked startled; this time Will tried not to laugh.

"Ye will be namin' no whelps after me, you two! Use yer bountiful imaginations an' come up wif somethin' original... like Davy, or Hector, or Norrington or somethin'.."

Elizabeth insisted. "Jack _is _a nickname, is it not?" Will shook his head and sighed, looking at Jack.

Jack rolled his eyes, "If you insist... NO.. it is _not _me nickname, it's me _name_..J-A-C-K..." he went on with a devilish twinkle in his dark eyes. "...but 'Jack' is me middle name..." he tilted his head slightly.

Elizabeth turned with interest, brush in hand, "Really? What's your first name?"

Jack looked her straight in the eye and grinned, "Me first name is..._Captain!_"

Jack and Will ducked just in time to see the brush hurl by their heads and over the opposite railing...

"...Ye owe me a brush..." Jack grumbled.

۞


	17. Fears

۞

"... are you really afraid of anything, Jack?" Elizabeth asked, looking over to the captain at the wheel of the ship.

"... what a question, Mrs. I-Married-A-Blacksmith-Whelp-Who-Turned-into-a-Helluva-Pirate Turner! Wha' brought that on?" Jack swiveled his head around to look at her.

"Oh, Will and I were talking about it last night in bed... he makes fun of me because... because I'm still..."

"Spit it out, darling..."

"... I'm afraid of the dark." Elizabeth frowned. "I know, I know, it's childish, especially after all that we have gone through, the three of us..."

Jack pondered this for a moment. "There is nothin' wrong wif bein' afraid of the dark. Many are, love. Won't ever do fer ye t' be swallowed by the Beastie, it's damn dark in there... and cold..." he joked.

Elizabeth turned away and bowed her head, "I'm sorry, Jack, I shouldn't have brought it up..."

The captain chuckled and said, "Izzy, dearest, ye know ye did wot ye had t' do... I'm not mad at ye... anymore!"

She turned back around and asked, softly, "... were you afraid, then, Jack?" There was a long pause as the wind pummeled them both, the sails above their heads snapping and cracking like so much wood. It was like she was hearing the horrible sound all over again... the cracking of the timbers as the Pearl was taken to the depths, along with her companion and friend. Elizabeth fought back tears.

Jack looked at her solemnly, "Aye. I was afraid... but the Beastie is dead and we don't have t' worry 'bout it anymore, eh?" He brightened, "C'mon, now, ye asked me if I were afraid of anythin'... yeah, I am... " the captain admitted.

Elizabeth tried to brighten up, also, and asked, "Alright, what?"

Jack grabbed his dreadlocks with one hand and waved them at her and winked. "Tentacles! Anything wif tentacles."

"Like these?" Elizabeth smiled and tugged at the braids on his chin.

He frowned. Jack hadn't thought of that. He went back to the original subject, fidgeting a little as he turned the ship's wheel.

"...An' spiders. I _hates _spiders..." He shuddered. This time he meant it. He wrinkled his nose in true distaste. This coming from a man who thought nothing of fighting skeletal cursed pirates and wearing a shrunken head dangling from his belt.

Elizabeth laughed at him... spiders...she would have to remember _that _one, she thought, mischieviously.

"Spiders..." repeated the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow, with a shiver clear down to his boots, "... Eeewwww, _ICK_!"

۞


	18. Surprises

۞

"...Jack!!! What on on earth are you DOING in here???" Will's voice was completely surprised.

Jack was so startled that he almost jumped out of his boots, loudly dropping the hammer from his hand. He turned around quickly to find Will and Elizabeth Turner standing in the doorway of their cabin, staring at him in shock.

"...Ummmm... I saw a mouse scamper under the door of the cabin an' I thought I better come in an' take care o' it...ummm, wif a hammer...we... can't have it sleeping wif th' two o' ye, now, can we?" he lied with a desperately cheerful tone. The captain reached a hand clumsily behind him, and hurriedly pulled a blanket down off of the couple's bunk and covered an object of great curiosity. He smiled at them, disarmingly, then said, "Now I thought tha' th' two o' ye had gone ashore t' provision th' ship... how's things in port, eh?" He started to take them both by the arms to steer them out onto the deck, but Elizabeth stopped him.

She was truly lovely in her pregnant state. She was glowing. After all that they had been through together, and after all of the sadness and hardship at World's End, it was a happy time aboard the Pearl when it was announced that Mr. and Mrs. Turner would be parents. Jack had been beside himself with happiness at being an "uncle", but it had worried him that the Turners would leave the Pearl once the babe was born... Jack told them that a pirate ship was truthfully no place to raise a baby, but the couple had assured him that they had no intention of leaving the crew... that if danger should arise, they would have a plan in place to ensure the safety of the baby and it's mother. Things were at an impasse, as far as that was concerned, and Jack acquiesced and would let them stay, although mostly out of guilty pleasure that they were not leaving.

"...Jack, what are you hiding under the blanket...?"

"...nononono... not good... you can't see this yet..." the captain was trying _hard _to pull the pair out of the cabin, but it was to no avail. Will and Elizabeth broke free from his grasp and together, pulled the blanket from the object that Jack had been working on, thinking that they were off of the ship for several hours. They stared in silence.

It was a cradle. A beautiful cradle for a baby. The design enabled the frame to be attached securely to the floorboards of the cabin, and the tiny bed was suspended in the frame, swinging to and fro gently with the rocking of the Pearl... a cradle designed to be aboard a ship at sea. It was highly polished, and made of dark walnut, just as the Pearl was... and on the headboard was a exquisite carving of a baby lamb nestled in a nest of flowers; so intricate as to its rendering that one would swear that the wool was curly and soft to the touch.

The couple was speechless, and the captain stood in defeat, his surprise ruined. His face bore a dark frown, and his hands were shoved into his sash in disappointment. "...Ye weren't supposed t' come back yet..." he muttered, grumpily kicking the hammer that he had dropped.

Will looked at Jack, and smiled, "Did you make this, Jack? I know that you can carve, but I didn't know that you could do carpentry..."

"... I can't," Jack admitted, "I drew it out on paper, then Gibbs helped me build it - we hid it in th' brig..." he brightened a bit, "I did carve the th' little lamb on th' headboard, though..."

Elizabeth had not spoken a word. She was running her hands over the polished wood, over the small blanket that had been cut from another and hand hemmed around the edges... she ran her fingers over the border of the wee pillow... decorated with a tiny edge of lace.

Wordlessly, she turned and walked over to the captain of the mighty Black Pearl, and wrapped her arms around him in an affectionate embrace. She kissed his dark cheek. "Thank you, Jack. It is a lovely surprise..." she said, softly, "... there is more than one sweet lamb on this ship." Will smiled as Captain Jack Sparrow blushed furiously, rolling his eyes at Elizabeth in frustration.

Elizabeth grinned, "... but I won't call you a sweet lamb in front of the crew, I promise..."

Jack growled and glared at her. And blushed, bandana red, again.

۞


	19. Glass Eyes

۞

"It ain't everyday tha' I helps someone pick out an eye, Mr. Ragetti..." Captain Sparrow was delicately examining every thing that the Singaporan merchant had to offer... everything that a maimed pirate could want.. peg legs, hooks for missing hands, eye patches...

Mr. Ragetti was extemely nervous... perhaps he should just keep his wooden eye, or start wearing a patch in a nice color. Captain Sparrow intimidated him, and it was nervewracking to be shopping with him, especially now that he was not quite all there, in a manner of speaking. Captain Sparrow was even calling him by his name! Ragetti wished that Pintel had come with him, but Pinters had had his fill of Singapore and had gone back to the ship.

"Wot ye so nervous about, son? We jus' have t' find th' right color an' make sure it fits proper an..."

"Maybe we should jus' gets back t' th' ship, sir... we been here in Singapore a long time, an'..."

"Nonsense!" the captain dismissed the young man's nervousness with a flip of his slender hand. "Ah! Shopkeeper, my good man! We have need t' make a purchase f' me companion, here... show me yer finest glass eyes, please, an' spare no expense..."

On the way back to the ship, Mr. Ragetti was beaming with pride. He had a new glass eye that nearly matched his natural one, one that fit. It only popped out once during their walk back to the docks, and that was because he ran into someone and his head jerked hard to one side. He caught it neatly, out of much practice.

The captain looked startled, then covered his surprise with a look of disdain. "Don' lose it! Ain't many merchants tha' I knows of wot sells glass eyes as good as that one, an' I don' plan t' come back to Singapore fer a long time, mate."

"...aye, sir...thank ye, sir, fer comin' wif me..." Ragetti shuffled his feet back and forth bashfully, then glanced up at his captain.

Captain Sparrow looked at him for a very long moment, then said, gently, "You're welcome... I still think ye shoulda picked th' one wif th' skull 'n' crossbones in the center... but it's your eye, eh? ... it looks right nice...not as scary as the wooden one, eh?"

Ragetti beamed.

The captain finally put his arm around the young man's shoulders and they boarded the ship, to leave Singapore behind them, at last... and Rags decided to himself, happily, that the captain, himself, wasn't as scary as he was before, either...

۞


	20. Good Business

_**Author's note: **_Dedicated to purplediamond7... thanks for the idea, mate... this was one of the toughest things I have ever tried to write! Pirate Cat downs a rum and pours another one!

۞

_This man has always been a thorn in my side. He has always questioned authority, and I should have followed my instinct and should not have hired him and his ship. A fine ship it __was__, to be certain, and I should wonder just how someone such as this pestilence should acquire such a fine vessel. Strange, here I am, the very embodiment of the East India Trading Company at my young age, albeit by the death of my father, and here he is, a guttersnipe... a veritable bilge rat... the very dregs of British society... he is the captain of his own merchant ship at only 24 years of age. Strange that we should both have come so far so quickly._

_I must give credit where it is due, he is quite clever and has a strange honor about him, but he is brash and a braggart, and he drinks too much, even for a sailor. He is even what I would call a bit mad... a hard one to read. I have often wondered if all of the cargo that has been assigned to his ship has been delivered, or did he help himself to part of it and alter the books? He is crafty, but he was caught this time..._

_Perhaps I should rephrase that. He was not "caught". He blatantly pirated cargo that was not his. He completely disobeyed his orders from the Company to deliver this cargo to the New World in suitable condition... it is not his place to question what cargo is assigned to his ship, nor is it his place to decide what to do with that cargo..._

"Mr. Mercer, have the prisoner brought in, please."

With a nod, Mr. Mercer opened the door to Cutler Beckett's shipboard office and gave a curt nod out out onto the main deck. Two guards of the East India Trading Company came through the door with the prisoner held between them, his hands shackled, and they pushed the badly injured man harshly to the Oriental carpet in front of Beckett. They were almost too rough, considering his wounds, and the fact that they were both much larger than he was.

The prisoner was still soaked from being pulled from the sea, where he had been found floating on a piece of debris... the only remnant of his beautiful ship, The Wicked Wench. In a fury of cannon fire, the Wench was now in blackened pieces at the bottom of the sea, and her captain, a slight man with wild dark hair and even wilder dark eyes, was the only survivor of the firestorm. He laid on the floor, crumpled in a bloody heap, his fractured left arm burned almost skinless on the underside, his back laid open by a cat o' nine tails. That was only the beginning of the punishment...

Beckett stared coldly down at this man, who laid motionless on the floor. "Look at me," he ordered. There was no response.

Beckett looked over at Mr. Mercer, who knelt down next to the figure, slowly, almost in a manner that might be at first concieved as gently, until he grabbed the scum by the back of his dark, long hair and roughly jerked the man's head back. Surprisingly, the man's dark eyes were open and conscious, and looked up at Beckett with a hatred so black and full of fire that even Beckett was taken aback.

"... ye burned me ship... ye sent her t' th' depths, you pompous little _scab_..." the wild eyed captain hissed. Even as badly injured as he was, he struggled against Mercer's grip on the back of his head, until Mercer, with the quickness of a snake, held a dagger across his throat so closely that the man could feel it slightly cut into the skin.

Undeterred, the prisoner glared up at Beckett with such fearless, inky black eyes that Beckett coolly said, "You, sir, pirated the cargo assigned to your ship. You took cargo that belonged to the East India Trading Company, and made your own decision to dispose of it. You, in effect, stole funds from the East India Trading Company..."

"... I will not deliver slaves..."

"... cargo..."

"... they were _slaves_! I will not deliver human beings into servitude! Ye can call 'em cargo from here t' Zanzibar, but they are _people_!" the prisoner spat the words out with such venom that Mercer had to hold himself back from doing the scum in.

Beckett picked daintily at the lace upon his cuffs, then gazed down into the flashing dark eyes of his captive. The color was starting to drain from his face from the exposure to the cold waters of the Atlantic, the burn upon his broken arm that was being wrenched out of place by the shackles, and the pain from his open back wounds... yet he still stubbornly fought unconsciousness... he refused to pass out. He was in an utter, complete, black rage that this pompous aristocratic ass would sink his beloved ship... he had done the right thing, by his mind, and this ... ass... sent his ship to the Locker. Mercer jerked back on his hair, again, and the man glared at him, fighting back the pain.

Beckett continued. "We cannot have this kind of insubordination. You broke the rules, Captain. You must be made an example of...You commited _piracy_." He walked slowly over to the cast iron stove that was warming the cabin against the cold dampness of the sea... he had wanted to do this for a long time... this was his chance to make certain that his authority would never be questioned again. This seafaring, tattooed, rum swilling dog would never be heard from again, to be certain, but Beckett would take great pains to make sure that the other captains in the Company would know exactly what had happened to this young fool... too young, and much, much too foolish..

And this one would always remember the East India Trading Company... this one would never captain another ship, nor would he even ever hold down an honest job again... Beckett pulled a red hot branding iron from the fire... a branding iron with a "P" upon its end... a branding iron for the marking of a pirate...

The prisoner looked at the branding iron, and very quietly said, "You use tha' on me, an' you will live t' regret it, Beckett."

"I doubt it." Beckett approached with ice in his eyes, his face strangely expressionless. "I use it upon you, and _you _will live to regret it."

Mercer jerked the man's right arm forward in its shackles, causing the prisoner to nearly faint with the pain from his injuries, yet he stubbornly did not... perspiration broke out and soaked his forehead, as his face became ashen. Beckett paused, and said, coolly, "I now proclaim you 'Captain Jack Sparrow... _Pirate'_." And he viciously sank the brand into the flesh of the prisoner's right wrist...

And finally, after the acrid smell of more burning skin filled his consciousness and the pain invaded his mind, blackness finally took over Jack Sparrow's vision... and his heart. He gave in to despairing unconsciousness. He had never showed one sign of weakness... he had never uttered one whimper of pain. Only defiance.

The guards, who had been standing by the doorway, had watched this entire exchange with horror. The man had only freed slaves on the coast of Africa. It was not a capital offense. He did not deserve this. Seeing their eyes, Beckett walked over and placed the brand back into the fire, then turned and locked eyes with them. "He must be made an example of. It's good business... now, throw this ... _pirate_... into the brig. He is bleeding on my carpet..."

۞


	21. Leaving His Mark

_**Author's Note: **__Dedicated to Oriana8! Here ye go, mate... I was up to the challenge. I hope ye gets a giggle out of it!_

۞

"... alright, Jack, I have a question for you..." William was counting his winnings ... as always, a pile of peanuts... after yet another game of Liar's Dice with Captain Jack Sparrow. Jack was frowning darkly at the fact that William was a better liar than he was, but then, William had learned the game upon the Flying Dutchman and Jack decided not to question it...

"Wot is it, lad? How I sacked Nassau Port wifout firin' a single shot?" the captain noisily propped his boots up on the barrel that they were using as a table, and gazed up at the black sails above their heads. By this time, Elizabeth had joined them, with her ledger of sums from helping Mr. Gibbs in the provisioning of the Black Pearl in the marketplaces of Singapore. She looked up with a smile at her two favorite people in the world, her handsome young husband and their very, very eccentric best friend, whose ship had welcomed them aboard as crew.

William picked up his rather large tankard of rum and rubbed a hand over the extensive scar that was on his chest... a scar over a living heart that had been restored to him, the beating of which still happily resounded in his eardrums. "... when I first was taken to Cutler Beckett upon the day that he made a rather large point of ruining our wedding," he glanced at his wife, who frowned at the thought, "... he said that the two of you had left a mark upon each other... we know what mark he left upon you... what mark did you leave upon him?"

Jack turned his head so quickly that he nearly fell off of the crate that he was perched upon. He looked at William with a dark scowl, and rubbed his hand the deep scar upon his right wrist... a stark, white "P"... the brand of a convicted pirate. He stuck out his tongue and screwed up his dark face,"...Beckett... " he growled, "... _blah_..." Elizabeth turned her eyes to Jack and smiled. He was always amusing when he did that... uttering such un-captainly epithets as "blah", "ick", and especially, "eewww".

Jack straightened up and thought for a moment, then took a hearty swig of his own rum, and swiveled his head loosely around to regard the Turners, "I left a mark upon 'im, alright... I was quite practical, savvy?..." His dark, sparkling eyes closed halfway with pleasure as he explained.

"First of all, William, dearest Lord Beckett - an' I use the term 'dearest' wif great and enthusiastic sarcasm - left more'n one mark upon me. I have all o' th' scars t' bear me out on that one. Once yer father an' th' crew o' th' ship that he was piratin' on made the fortuitous decision t' raid Beckett's ship, wif a very injured Captain Jack Sparrow in th' brig, after same Cutler Beckett had firebombed and sank me Wicked Wench, it was pretty plain tha' I had no choice but t' become pirate, meself... " Jack reflected for a moment and sighed.

"Your father convinced me, once he nursed me back t' health, tha' once I learned th' ways o' piratin' an' became th' greatest pirate th' world has ever known..." he smiled grandly at the pair as they rolled their eyes, "... tha' I should make me mark upon his assets, as it were. It was Bootstrap Bill Turner tha' convinced me to almost exclusively raid and pillage ships of the EITC! It worked pretty well once I got me ship back... I was a real pest, an' we all know jus' how much Cutler loved money, and power. I was a real pain to 'im... always makin' off wif his cargo and supplies, an' sinkin' 'is ships... I was such a bloody inconvenience." The captain inspected his fingernails with great interest.

Elizabeth and William stared at him, incredulously. "That's all?" Elizabeth asked, with shock. "You targeted his ships? That doesn't sound like you! Captain Jack Sparrow would leave a much more colorful mark than that!"

Jack grinned wickedly... "Ye didn't let me finish!" he waved both index fingers at his audience of two. William's eyes started to twinkle, as he knew something much more entertaining was in the offing.

"... ye're expectin' me t' say tha' I turned 'im into a eunuch, aren't ye?" Jack tilted his head and looked at the pair out of the corner of his eyes. He grinned with glee and continued, "... it really is wicked t' be havin' a laugh at th' expense o' th' dead, ye know..."

Elizabeth slammed her ledger closed as she and William both took sips of rum, and smiled at Jack's suspenseful pause. He almost laughed at the effect that he was having upon them. He took a deep breath and said, "... wot I am about t' tell ye is the truth, an' ye can ask Bill if ye don't believe me..." He also took another swig of rum and said, "We were visitin' jolly ol' England, so's Bill could see 'is wife an' young whelp... " Jack nodded to William, "...an' we were able to sneak int' Beckett's office in Southampton one night, after th' three of us had overpowered 'is trained monkey, Mercer - he's not so tough when there was three o' us."

"Why were there three of you, and what were you doing, Jack?" William asked, leaning in closer, smiling.

"... it was one o' me crew wot could help Bill carry a small trunk... ye see, when I was a whelp, I earned extra money as a tattoo artist...I left a mark upon Beckett, alright! I'd laid me hands on some o' th' instruments o' me former artful trade..."

Elizabeth's mouth dropped open, and William's eyes got as large as Jack's usually did. It did not have the same effect without kohl, but it amused Jack, just the same.

"... we were able t' sneak in, knock th' bejesus outta him... an' we tattooed his arse..."

The Turners stared. William finally found his voice,"... and what, pray tell, did you tattoo upon his arse?" He was not sure if he believed Jack or not.

Jack grinned triumphantly, "Me very own pirate flag! So's every time he would stand up... _every_ time... he would 'hoist the colours high'... _my colours_! O' course, as short as 'e was, he couldn't hoist 'em _very _high, but it was th' principal of it all... from tha' night on, Cutler Beckett had a pirate's flag tattooed on 'is arse. Shoulda turned 'im into a eunuch, whilst we were at it..." he mused.

William and Elizabeth burst into merry laughter, and they all tapped their mugs together. Jack exclaimed, "... if ye don't believe me, you two, ask Bill! He was there!" Even Jack started to giggle.

As the Turners turned beet red with mirth at the thought of it, and Elizabeth laughed so hard that she even snorted a little bit, Jack smiled with contempt and muttered, "There is no way to even touch upon how much Cutler Beckett _hated_ me..."

He drained his mug and slammed it down with satisfaction.

۞


	22. One Song, One Note

۞

No one quite knew just why Captain Jack Sparrow allowed a harpsichord to be brought aboard the mighty Black Pearl during the raid of a French frigate. Much of what was plundered from this particular ship was sumptuous, indeed, as it was bound from France, bringing the belongings and furnishings of a wealthy French nobleman to his new home as the governor of Martinique. There were silks and brocades to furnish the new governor's mansion, gold and silver tableware, fine crystal, a great deal of good French wine, barrels of fine cheese and other delicacies, and, of all things, a harpsichord. All could bring a decent price in trade for other goods that the Black Pearl would find more useful, but almost all of the crew knew that there was no market for a harpsichord in the illicit marketplaces of the Caribbean.

Jack had simply decided that it might have some worth somewhere, so he ordered that it should be brought aboard his ship and stowed in the hold with the rest of the treasures that could be traded more profitably. Even in his endearing mental flights of fancy since being rescued from the Locker, the crew followed his orders to the letter and did not question his decisions, no matter how cracked his poor mind was... watching him in action with William Turner the Second, their first mate, during the Battle of the Maelstrom at World's End was enough to make them trust their addled captain in just about any endeavor that they undertook.

As evening fell, Elizabeth Turner was rocking her baby upon the main deck, humming a soft lullaby to her curly haired son as she watched the sun begin to slip from the western sky. Her husband, William, was assisting Captain James Norrington upon the ghost ship, The Flying Dutchman, for two weeks, as a part of his own curse being lifted... it was his duty to help, whenever needed, in exchange for the return of his living heart and his mortal life with his wife and son as crew aboard their best friend Jack Sparrow's ship.

This particular evening was beautiful, as the Pearl was hastily making her way toward the small pirate haven of Tortuga, where the ship would be able to slip into the harbor and lay low for a day or so until the French nobleman and his armada would get tired of trying to find them, and finally resign themselves to the fact that they had been raided by the finest pirates that the Caribbean could owe a name to.

Elizabeth smiled to herself, as she was eager for William's return to tell him of the adventure... Jack had simply guided the fastest pirate ship in the Spanish Main directly in between the accompanying ships that were supposed to guard the French frigate, with his colours hoisted and cannons staring at the ship like so many staring iron eyes... the guard ships had no choice but to helplessly let the Pearl slip swiftly between them, boldly, from a behind a palm tree covered sand bar. They were so taken by surprise that they did not even have time to man their own guns... it was truly like as if this pirate ship had appeared out of nowhere, only to disappear in the same manner, as fleet as she was, with the winds billowing in her black sails. It would be a dismal embarassment for the French Navy, and Jack sailed the Pearl flagrantly out of their reach with a flourish of his tricorn and a shining lopsided golden grin.

As the sky began to turn indigo above her head, Elizabeth held her son, Little Will, close to her as he fought off sleep with all of his might. Little Will was a goodnatured four-month-old, now, but he seemed to resist sleep at all costs, and this was one of those evenings. As she continued to rock him in a hammock strung up on the main deck, she suddenly thought that she heard a very strange sound from the hold... the foreign sound of someone playing a clumsy scale of notes upon a harpsichord. She looked up at the helm, where Giles Mullroy was at the ship's wheel... he had heard it also, and he looked down at her with raised eyebrows and a shrug.

Elizabeth placed Little Will in his basket, and went down the stairs to the hold, with a burning candle in her free hand... most of the crew was sitting down for the evening meal in the galley, and she nodded and smiled to Marty, Mr. Pintel, Mr. Cotton and Joshamee Gibbs as they sat at the table that was suspended from ropes to stay level with the movement of the ship. Angus Murtogg and Mr. Ragetti, who was the unofficial cook for the crew, were spooning up a clam stew that almost made Elizabeth stop in her quest for a bowl of what smelled as though it promised a delicious meal, but her curiosity got the best of her. She suspected from his absence who the erstwhile musician might be.

She was right. Sitting upon a crate in front of the harpsichord, was the slender captain, his handsome, dark face deep in concentration, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, as he carefully picked out note after note with one single delicate finger. Elizabeth smiled affectionately, as the Turners' best friend furrowed his bandana'd brow in consternation, as he seemed to be trying to figure out how to play anything that resembled music.

"Jack?"

The captain jumped with such a start that he gasped, his waist long, trinketed dreadlocks flipping about like a frightened octopus. "Izzy!!! Ye scared me!!!" he placed a hand upon his thin chest, his kohl lined brown eyes round as moons.

"I'm sorry, Jack... I didn't mean to startle you." Elizabeth came down to join him, placing Little Will upon the floor next to her feet, as he looked up at the familiar captain and smiled, gurgling and kicking his feet happily as Jack grinned back down at him... "Come down t' listen to me virtuoso performance, laddie?"

Elizabeth jokingly pushed Jack over and took a place next to him at the keyboard. "Do you know how to play, Jack? You looked as though you were trying to remember a melody..." she placed her hands delicately over the keys and softly tapped out a few notes.

Jack shrugged and replied in his rum husky voice,"... well... no. I was just wonderin' what it sounded like...I have heard a pipe organ, an' a pianoforte, but I've never heard one o' these..." He paused, as Elizabeth's hands began to slowly play... hesitantly... and then stopped abruptly.

Jack's dark eyes' widened, "Ye know how t' play it! Don't stop!" He then looked at Elizabeth's sad face, as she turned to look at him..."I don't think that I can remember..."

"Oh, come now, Izzy, I think that you know somethin' tha' you are stoppin' at yer fingertips... wot's wrong? Might it have t' do wif rememberin' your father, lass?" Jack asked gently, his head tilting to one side as he studied her.

In truth, Elizabeth Turner was remembering a time long ago, when her father had paid good money for her to learn to play this very instrument, only to have her whine and complain because she hated to practice... she would rather be climbing trees and chasing butterflies through the garden than be stuck in the Governor's Mansion, playing dreary scales...

A coo from her young son brought Elizabeth back to her present company, and it was always times like these that she missed William so much. She sighed and looked at Jack, and said, matter of factly, "I never really learned only one piece very well... I can't even remember the name of it, only that it was written by Johann Sebastion Bach..."

"Who?" The name obviously meant nothing to the captain, who was mostly acquainted with Irish music of his childhood and the many songs of the sea that all sailors knew...many of which were not polite to sing in mixed company, no matter how familiar.

Elizabeth smiled at Jack's frowning face, as he was always a bit peeved when Elizabeth unknowingly goaded him with her obvious education. She remembered this, and hurried to change the subject a bit.

"Your father plays guitar, Jack. I saw him play one at the meeting of the Brethren Court... " She knew right away that this might have been quite the wrong way to ask her friend if he, indeed, knew how to play a guitar.

His face clouded over, and he said, "... I know wot you are wonderin'... no, Izzy, I have no talent for music...my father made tha' plain, once, when I made th' mistake o' tryin' to make a chord on one o' his guitars wifout permission... that was just before he abandoned me f' good..." the silence that took over the candlelit hold was deafening, as they both stared at the keyboard before them.

Elizabeth cleared her throat, and reached over to pat her friend's arm. "I'm sorry, Jack... I didn't mean to..."

"I know," the captain cut her off with a sad smile. He looked at her as if to apologize for being too sensitive..."I know ye didn't."

"Let's see..." Elizabeth placed her hands over the keyboard, again, her cheeks coloring with embarassment at admitting to her defiance at her late father's admonishing her to take fashionable music lessons. Jack noticed her blushing, and smirked a bit... she must have been rebellious at a young age, he thought.

"I have an idea, Jack!" Elizabeth's face broke into a broad grin, as she reached over for his hand. He pulled it away, frowning at her darkly, but she insistantly took his long right index finger and placed it above a single key. "I will play what I can remember of the one melody that I learned, and when I tell you to, you play this one note! We will play a duet!"

"A wot?" Jack grinned back at her, as she nudged him playfully... it was obvious that he knew what a duet was.

As she began, with more than just a few mistakes, she would then look up at the dark pirate captain and nod... he would then lean his head back, with a haughty expression upon his handsome face, and with sparkling eyes, play his one note with as much aplomb as he could muster. Elizabeth laughed, and she continued with the next movement of the piece, as well as she could remember it.

Little Will crowed and kicked his feet as his mother and one of his favorite people in his little world jokingly played as if they were in the finest concert hall in Vienna, instead of a dark cargo hold of a ship. As they muddled their way through, they both began to laugh, as the daughter of an English nobleman and the son of an Irish pirate captain once again found some common ground in the absurdity of a pilfered harpsichord.

And as they completed their concert of one song, Jack Sparrow turned to William's giggling bonnie lass and grinned, "Oi! I wish that William could hear us! Perhaps we should practice, eh? If th' Flyin' Dutchman can have a pipe organ, th' Pearl can have a bloody harpsichord, savvy?"

With a wink to each other, they opened one of the bottles of fine French wine, and drank a merry toast to Johann Sebastion Bach... whoever he was, Jack Sparrow mused to himself with a shrug... and they played their one song... with the captain's one note... into the dark Caribbean night...

۞


	23. The Sign Above the Door

۞

"... I understand, Jack, but I would still like it if you came along with us. This is the last port that we stayed at before Father and I departed for Jamaica so that he could take his appointment as governor. It holds so many memories for me, and since Will is helping James on the Dutchman..." Elizabeth nearly pleaded with Jack, but she knew that he was right. It was too dangerous for him to disembark from the Pearl into Southampton, and even though it grieved him to not accompany her ashore, the captain would be in dangerous territory if he left the ship. The Pearl was moored in a hidden cove off of the rough English coast, and Joshamee Gibbs had procured the use of a small pony cart for the journey into the port. It would be Gibbs who would be responsible for looking after things upon this trip, much to Jack's chagrin.

Captain Jack Sparrow looked at Elizabeth with worried eyes. "I don't know why ye wanted us t' procure supplies in Southampton, of all places, when we easily had enough t' get us t' west coast of Eire, lass..." he frowned, "... I hope tha' ye know tha' ye are makin' it difficult t' keep me promise t' Will t' watch over ye whilst he was gone... wot wif ye bein' in a family way, an' all..." Jack's dark eyes scanned over Elizabeth's growing belly with worry. It was enough for him to contemplate the fact that William and Elizabeth had concieved their child aboard his ship, but they fully planned to give birth to the babe in their snug cabin, also. Elizabeth reminded Jack that he, himself, had been born aboard a pirate ship, and he had conceded that this was true, thus he had no argument against it... but it still worried him.

He smiled a bit at Elizabeth's disappointment, as he knew that she wished to share her memories in going back to the last English port that she had seen as a child just prior to departing for the New World, but she knew that he was right in being reluctant. "Well, then, Mr. Gibbs and I will not be too long, Jack." She leaned back with her hands upon her hips, stretching... she was still two months away from delivering, but she was still spry and quick upon her feet... surely the child that she carried would be able to climb to the crow's nest as quickly as William could, and just as proudly. Elizabeth sighed, then gave Jack a quick hug.

As Elizabeth prepared to climb over the railing, Jack reached down and untied his famous compass from his belt. "Here, Izzy. I know that it is rather minimizing th' wondrous powers tha' me compass possesses, but use it... jus' thinks o' th' things tha' ye want to find th' most and th' quickest, and maybe it'll save you an' Gibbs some footwork, savvy?" he suggested, brightly. His golden teeth shone in the sun, as he took her hand and placed the compass within; he then took her other hand and placed it over the compass, covering her tiny hands with his tanned, slender ones. She looked up at him, puzzled... "Are you sure that you can't come along, Jack?"

His dark eyes met hers, and there was a strange look in them, as he said, quietly, "... no, Izzy. Southampton is no place fer th' likes o' me or th' crew... fer more than one reason. Jus' try t' be quick... an' let Joshamee take care o' ye...don't try anything on yer own. Of us all, Josh will fit in the easiest, so let 'im look after ye... promise me." Elizabeth tried to read the look in Jack's eyes, and she simply smiled and said, "I promise, Jack."

Jack watched her and felt a strong pang of guilt, as she carefully climbed over the railing and down the solid, strong rigging... it would more than likely be one of the last excursions to shore for Elizabeth, as she would soon be confined to the ship with William and the rest of the crew to await the birth of her child. The captain wished that she would have chosen to stop anyplace but here, but it meant something to her... he looked down as the longboat with Elizabeth Turner and Joshamee Gibbs was lowered to the water, and nodded to Gibbs as he looked up at his captain, and patted Jack's prized pistol that was stuck into his belt, next to his own.

Southampton was a dangerous place for pirates, it was true, and Elizabeth understood this... but she felt the need to visit one more time.

۞

As the pair walked along the streets of the busy seaport, Elizabeth felt so many memories flood back to her. There was the very pier that the Dauntless had departed from, and there was the street along the waterfront that had so many of the shops and taverns that the sailors and civilians, alike, had frequented. There was the Royal Navy headquarters where she and her father had stayed prior to departure, and there was the large wide veranda where she was first introduced to Captain James Norrington.

Elizabeth smiled to herself... as things had turned out, James was now the captain of the Flying Dutchman, and her beloved husband was at sea, helping him to reconcile the records of the ship in its mission to ferry the souls of those lost at sea. It was a part of the agreement with Calypso to procure Will's early release to rejoin his wife and friends. In Elizabeth's mind, James' duty, now, was every bit as honorable, if not more so, than his career serving the King.

"... I remember this place, Mr. Gibbs!" she exclaimed, suddenly, as they stopped in their travels through the town. Elizabeth's face lit up brightly, and she pointed inside. "Father brought me here to buy sweets for me! Oh, they have the most wonderful candies!"

"I wouldn't know, lass, I was busy tryin' t' get the Dauntless ready to sail!" Gibbs grinned at Elizabeth's girlish enthusiasm, as she looked at all of the confections that were displayed in the windows. "Sailors don't get much of a chance t' visit such establishments..."

His grizzled face clouded over, as he looked in the doorway and saw something that Jack had warned him about. It would not necessarily apply to himself in the way that he was presently dressed...clean, with presentable garments in order to blend in, as it were... but with loyalty to his crewmates, he was hoping that Elizabeth would not wish to enter the shop. He was wrong...

"Please, Joshamee! Let's go in and see what they have!" she smiled, pulling his parcel filled arms toward the door.

"Ummm, Miss Elizabeth, I think that we should really be takin' the supplies tha' we have back t' the ship... I don't think that it's a good idea t' take on more..."

"Oh, please, just humor me! It might be my last visit ashore before the baby comes!"

Joshamee looked at her seriously and finally sighed, "Look, Miss Elizabeth, I don't wish t' argue wi' ye, but I think tha' there is somethin' that needs t' be explained t' ye... let's go over here, an' sit down, darlin'..."

Elizabeth's hazel eyes filled with concern, as he guided her over to a bench next to a stone wall across from the sweets shop. She did not understand the look upon the quartermaster's face, as he sat down next to her, and took her small hands in his large ones.

"Look above th' door, lass..." As she searched Gibbs' sad face, she frowned. "What..." and her eyes followed his to a sign above the door, that said,

"_The presence of people of colour, gypsies, Irish and general riff raff will not be allowed past the door of this establishment." _Elizabeth's mouth dropped open... she suddenly understood exactly what Jack had meant.

۞

Mr. Gibbs kept holding her hands, as he said, softly, "It isn't a friendly town t' th' likes of us, Miss Elizabeth. When ye left here as a wee lassie, ye were one o' the elite ones... one o' high birth an' good breeding. That sign has always been there, but ye never woulda noticed it had I not pointed it out t' ye. Ye would still be able t' visit there, yourself, but I couldn't bring meself t' accompany ye except t' watch over ye.'

"... ye see, if ye look around, how many do ye see on these streets tha' look like any o' th' crew o' th' Black Pearl... especially her captain?'

Elizabeth looked about her at the passersby. He was right. Jack, in all of his handsome, dark, beaded and flamboyant glory, would have stood out as plain as day... as would any crewman of the Pearl. She felt shame and anger begin to bubble up inside of her, as the differences between the two worlds that she had inhabited in her life suddenly collided violently in her mind. The world that she had left behind, the bigoted, high brow, confining and corseted world of the aristocracy... and the free spirited pirate world that she chose over it. How much it hurt to have it suddenly come into such contrast in front of her eyes. She placed her hands over her large, pregnant belly and felt her child move within... a child with pirate blood. She angrily thought about this blessed baby's family, by adoption...

Mr. Cotton... a fine man who had been a shopkeeper in the Caribbean until his town was raided by the natives who had been pushed off of their land. He was an innocent bystander who tried to defend his family, only to have them murdered in front of him, before his own tongue was cut out, and his home burned.

Marty... a native of Tortuga who would have been stared at and ridiculed in this port city simply because of his small stature.

Mr. Pintel... from the poor area of London, who had taken in his nephew, Ragetti, when Ragetti's prostitute mother had died of tuberculosis... Mr. Pintel had promised his only sister that he would look after the lad, no matter what, and they had stuck together, ever since.

Mr. Gibbs... a lifelong sailor from Wales who had lost his dear wife during childbirth... his baby son had also died, and he drowned himself in drink after being drummed out of the Navy, lost in rum upon Tortuga until befriended by the daft Captain Jack Sparrow.

And Captain Jack Sparrow... the illigitimate son of a pirate captain and an Irish gypsy lass, surviving alone at the tender age of six, after his mother's death ... the dark gypsy skin that he was born with considered "of colour" by the upper classes. The sign above the sweet shop doorway held all strikes against him.

Elizabeth was stunned... all of her loved ones that she now cherished were considered "riff raff" by those who had borne her, Elizabeth Anne Swann Turner, daughter of Weatherby Swann, appointed by the King of England as the Governor of Jamaica. The governor's daughter, who chose to love and marry a humble blacksmith, and who had more family among her pirate friends than she ever had by blood.

As all of this sank in with her, Elizabeth's blood began to boil, and she looked sideways at Mr. Gibbs, whose eyebrows shot up. He had seen this look from the lass, before, and it did not bode well. Joshamee Gibbs wished like hell that Jack looked more normal than he did, and that he had accompanied them into town in order to "protect" this fiery lassie.

"Mr. Gibbs... we need to buy some sweets!" she exclaimed with a wicked, wicked smile.

۞

Jack helped the crew to haul the long boat up onto the deck of the Black Pearl, and helped Elizabeth out of the boat and onto the main deck, clearly relieved to see her and Mr. Gibbs return safely in the evening light. Elizabeth climbed nimbly down, only slightly holding her belly and smiling brightly at Mr. Ragetti as he gingerly patted her hand and fussed over her swollen feet... "Look there, Poppet! Now ye needs t' be sittin' down an' havin' a bit o' a bite t' eat... we had a fine stew fer supper an' ye be eatin' fer two, now! Wot would Mr. Will think?" he fussed, as Elizabeth laughed merrily at his attention. Jack looked at him, annoyed, as Mr. Pintel pulled a chair out for her to sit down upon. Ragetti scampered off to the galley for a hot bowl... he was taking Elizabeth's condition very seriously and was surprisingly helpful to her since Will had been gone to help James.

As the crew removed the various parcels from the long boat, Jack turned to Elizabeth and said, absently, "Soooo... did you an' Gibbs have a fine visit t' the city, then? Didja relives some fine moments from your childhood..." he looked so serious, that Elizabeth hesitated to speak. She decided to blunder forth with what was upon her mind since that afternoon...

"Jack... I understand, now..." she began, and he tilted his head a bit and leaned forward as if to listen more closely. She cleared her throat and continued. "I never really noticed just how ... different... things are, now. I saw a sign above a doorway, today..."

The captain smiled sadly and said, "Ahhhh... no Irish, no gypsies, no people o' any colour other than paper white...no human bein's..." his voice trailed off. "... now ye see why people of my ilk avoids such places, eh? Especially here in jolly ol' England, an' especially in th' strongholds o' the Navy...those such as meself are wanted by th' King fer hangin' ... an' _not _wanted by anyone else..." Jack's expressive hands waved in the air only slightly, and his dark eyes looked very sad in their honesty.

Elizabeth turned and stared at the captain for putting it so succinctly. Even after all of this time, he still could surprise her so. She was even more glad that she and Gibbs had done what they had done. She smiled and picked up a parcel that she, herself, had carried aboard, and was determined to change the mood.

"I brought you a present!" she exclaimed, "... something that I know that you like, and you will enjoy hearing how we procured it." She handed the parcel to the captain, who had pulled up a chair across the barrel from her, and looked at the package suspiciously. Elizabeth went on, "... we went into a sweet shop, and they had the most delectable of treats there! So many wondrous things!" She leaned forward, much as Jack did, and with a devilish look in her eyes, she pushed the parcel closer to him. "Now, keep in mind, there is enough here to share with the crew, and we must save some for William when he rejoins us in four days, but I especially wanted to get these for you..."

"Sweet shop? Izzy, ye were t' try t' provision th' ship as honestly as ye could in order t' keep down suspicion! We didn't send along enough money fer ye t' buy at a sweet shop!" Jack's face grew alarmed, as he quickly started to get up to take a look about with his spyglass, until Elizabeth grabbed his thin arm and made him sit back down. "It's alright, we didn't raise any suspicion!" Her face then grew serious, and she said, softly, "You never had many luxuries such as sweets when you were young, did you, Jack...nor are you welcome in a place such as that now, are you...?"

Jack's dark eyes looked into Elizabeth's for a moment, then down at the parcel. Such a simple thing as candies or sweets were well beyond the reach of most of those in his social class, and to steal something such as that would be so folly in it's danger that even he had not attempted it. As much as he loved sweets, he would not wish to be captured for them.

"Well! Mr. Gibbs and I came up with a plan... and we did not need the money that you gave to us for provisions. As we went into the shop, and I talked to the owner, I simply acted as though I was lightheaded with the heat! I told the shopkeeper that I wished to sit down for a moment, and as he helped the dear little expectant mother of obvious high social standing and good breeding to a chair, Mr. Gibbs picked his pocket!" Elizabeth grinned proudly.

"He WOT????" Jack's face broke into a gleeful smile, as he pictured Mr. Gibbs' beefy hands lightly lifting the shopowner's own purse from his person. Elizabeth clapped her hands together, as she giggled, "... and we 'bought' enough sweets for the entire crew with the shopkeeper's own money! And to think that he wouldn't allow 'riff raff' in his establishment!" she laughed.

Jack started to chuckle, as he said, "... I can't wait t' tell this one t' William, lass! Light Fingered Joshamee an' his accomplice, Lyin' 'Lizabeth!" The captain did something that he rarely did... he laughed out loud!

After they wiped away tears of mirth, Elizabeth once again pushed the package toward Jack, and urged him to open it... growing quiet again, she said to him, with feeling, "... these are for all of the times that you were denied little things such as sweets, Jack... simply because of narrowminded bigots... people of a social class that I denounce..."

Jack unwrapped the parcel slowly, as if to savor the surprise inside, even more... as he finally saw what was within, his face softened and softly inhaled... "Oooooh, Izzy! Chocolate truffles!!!!"

Jack looked as though he had been presented with the most valuable diamonds and gold that anyone could offer to a pirate captain. He looked up at her with eyes as rich as the chocolate that he held in his hands, delicately picked a sweet up with his forefinger and thumb, and blissfully licked it. "Ahhhhh..." and as he bit into it with a great passion, he smirked at her, and said, around a mouthful of very decadent chocolate,"..._Pirate_!..."

Elizabeth beamed with pride. She knew that she had better save back a piece for Will... and hide it!

۞


	24. Trifles

۞

The mighty Black Pearl was anchored off of the coast of the Florida Territory on this warm summer evening, and the sky was overcast and threatening to rain. The day had been a good one at sea, but it had taken longer than usual to find a safe place to drop anchor and still be able to keep an eye upon the surrounding waters to watch for intruders, and darkness had started to color the edges of the sky as the Pearl finally came to rest about a half mile off of the sandy coast. The air was heavy with humidity, and there was a bit of low thunder in the distance. It seemed to match Elizabeth Turner's somber mood... she had awakened upon this morning without her usual smile, even for her beloved husband, who was somewhat concerned about her. It was not like her... there was something upon her mind.

Lanterns had been lit upon the ship, and Captain Jack Sparrow had tossed his beaded dark dreadlocks over his shoulders, and was perusing the chart that was spread out upon the top of the table that was customarily used for gambling upon the main deck whilst the ship was moored. It was not attached to the deckboards and was customarily stowed when not in use, so it was the first item to be dragged out once the Pearl slid gracefully into stillness and the anchor dropped into the deep.

The captain's eyes were sparkling with excitement, as his first mate, William Turner the Second, was slowly turning the sliding circles that made up this most special of sea charts... it was quite valuable, and they kept it under lock and key. It was a part of the chart that helped the Turners and their friends to find and rescue Captain Jack Sparrow, to bring him back among the living after he had been taken from them by the fearful Kraken.

As they kept turning the chart and consulting Jack's equally valuable compass, talking among themselves and smiling, Elizabeth's eyes watched them with almost a sad expression. She had fed wee baby Will, and had put him to bed in their snug cabin, and had returned to stand quietly by the table, watching the words form as her two men turned the circles..."Over the Edge, Over Again"..."Up is down"..."Flash of Green"... and their current treasure hunt, "Aqua de Vida". Her mind went back over the events of the last two years... and as Jack's and William's eager eyes met over the chart, she finally spoke up, very bluntly.

"Jack... when was it that you stopped hating me?"

The captain blinked hard at William, as if he was the one to ask the question, then swiveled his dark face around to stare at Elizabeth. William stood up straight and regarded his wife in puzzlement. Seeing the look in her eyes, he slowly put an arm around her and searched her face as she blinked back tears. William finally looked at his best friend, and said, "Today would have been our wedding anniversary if Cutler Beckett had not come to Port Royal when he did..." turning to his wife and the mother of his son, he smiled softly and said, "I think that you have had a lot of very bad memories coming back to haunt you upon this day, haven't you?"

Jack screwed up his face and straightened up to his normal slouching stance, elbows bent and hands in midair. Elizabeth looked back down at the chart with great sadness, and looked straight into Jack's brown eyes, glowing in the darkness.

"You have every right to hate me for what I did to you, Jack... and you were not happy with me when we first found you... in the Locker...but somewhere during our voyage back, you changed... when did you stop hating me? Things could have been so different, so awful... Jack... when did you stop..." Her voice faltered, as the Locker was a subject that was not discussed at length with the captain. He has not emerged from the Other Side as the same man... Jack was changed, and some would kindly say that his mind had been damaged... most would simply say that he was pleasantly mad. The Locker was not discussed between the three of them very often.

Regarding the young couple before him, Jack struggled to understand why the evening had taken such a turn. He looked back down at the chart, and finally saw what she had been seeing... he smiled a bit, and thought it over for a moment.

"Sit down, you two..." he said, pouring more rum into the three mugs that had been sitting next to the lantern upon the table. The darkness enveloped them all around, as Jack leaned into the lantern light to pick up the mugs and hand them to his companions. The Turners took them, seeing that Jack was in the mood to speak his heart... he pulled a chair up directly across from William and Elizabeth, and grinned at them, running a hand over his braided chin.

"Alright, listen up. I was th' pirate, first, savvy?" he smiled, gold teeth glittering in the lamplight, "...ye turned pirate after me, both o' ye. An' ye crept into me weasely black heart in a most piratey fashion early on..." his eyes momentarily looked out to the night time Atlantic.

His face softened as he looked back at them. "How could I hate you, Izzy? I was not happy wif ye... no..." Jack raised both forefingers for emphasis, "... no... I was downright _furious_ wif ye for bein' a better pirate than meself at that given time o' me demise..." he finally looked both of his young friends in the eye and said, "... but I _never_ hated ye, luv..."

"Granted," the captain continued, after they all took a quiet sip of rum, "...ye both came t' find me in th' Locker for different reasons, an' I'm good wif it, now, but I really took notice o' things when we were on th' Pearl, together, an' it was as dark as it is, now..." he looked into Elizabeth's eyes, and took her hands in his, "... We were going one way, as th' souls came floatin' by. We were goin' one way, toward life. They were goin' th' other way..." the captain's elegant hand waved out to sea.

"... Luv, how could I hate ye, when I saw your father? How could I watch the total anguish that both o' ye went through at that very moment, an' feel angry wif ye? Your father was gone... an' I was not. I was dead, yet I was able t' be saved by ye..."

William embraced Elizabeth to him, as her eyes brimmed. Jack continued, as he squeezed Elizabeth's tiny hands within his slender, tanned ones. He said, comfortingly, "I could not hate either o' ye... not th' whelp an' his lass... both o' ye were only bein' what _I've_ been for nearly half o' me life... how can I argue wif that when Captain Jack Sparrow was th' one wot taught pirate ways t' ye? Little did I know that ye would both be so damned good at it!" The captain looked at his friends as though he thought that they had known this all along.

William spoke up, as Elizabeth leaned into his chest, as she gripped the captain's hands with her own, "Jack, that can work both ways. None of us hated each other... we were simply caught up in a very bad situation. One that we have gotten past... one that was all caused by others... we just reacted to it, and thankfully saved each other from it."

The Turners could not help but smile, as Jack spread his hands out grandly and said, "Well, there ye go! Let's drink t' us, then! If it was t' be yer wedding anni...anniv..." he struggled with the word, then growled, "... wot ever th' hell th' bloody word is, then Happy Wot-Ever-Th'-Hell-Th'-Bloody-Word-Is Day...but since ye _didn't_ get married then, never mind!" William and Elizabeth looked at him as Elizabeth wiped her eyes, and smiled at the captain's skewered logic.

Jack rubbed his hands together, eagerly, "Now! We have a fountain t' find if we plan t' partake in immortality so's we can drink rum for eternity." The captain stood up, drained his mug with an indelicate burp, and happily moved back over to the chart as if the conversation had never taken place.

As William kissed his wife comfortingly, Jack looked at them and smiled, "Izzy, stop beatin' yerself up, lass. Ye fed me t' th' Kraken, an' th' two o' ye came an' found me again... in th' grand scheme o' things, it's all trifles... all trifles, luv. I'm good wif it."

Elizabeth Turner smiled..."If you're 'good wif it', Jack, I shall try to be, too."... she slipped her arms tightly around both of them, and joined them in excitedly planning their new adventure.

Jack glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, as he muttered with a wicked wink, "... I'm good wif it as long as ye don't do it any of it again, savvy?"

William laughed, as Jack received a hard punch to his arm and a squeeze around his waist. He growled to William, "I try t' make 'er feel better, an' she hits me..."

"At least it wasn't a slap, Jack..." William smiled over the rim of his mug. "Now, where were we?"

۞


	25. The Way That He Is

_**Author's note: **__This fiction is a spinoff of my story "Thicker Than Water", in which Jack and Will are cousins... not necessary to read that one, really, but go ahead, if you'd like! Pirate Cat_

۞

The evening was a peaceful one aboard the Black Pearl... the sky was clear and the stars twinkled brightly above. The winds were light and the black canvas sails were dancing with the ocean breezes.

Elizabeth Turner was readying her young son for bed. Her husband, William Turner, the former captain of the legendary ghost ship, the Flying Dutchman, was away for these two weeks, helping the Dutchman's captain, James Norrington, with his duties. William had been released from his curse, and was no longer bound to the ship, due to his and Elizabeth's true and lasting love, but he was bound by a promise to Calypso to help James whenever his aid and expertise of the ship was needed. There was war between France and Spain, and the toll upon the sea was heavy. William's help in ferrying souls was required, and even though he could no longer submerge with the ship, he could help with the keeping count and the rites of passage for each sailor. It was a condition of his early release from his cursed duty... he was able to recover his living heart, but he was honor bound to help when James felt the necessity. Elizabeth and William felt that it was a very, very small price to pay. She hoped someday, to see a green flash in the sky for James Norrington.

William and Elizabeth had joined William's cousin, Captain Jack Sparrow, as crew members aboard his ship, the Black Pearl, shortly after the terrible experiences At World's End. Jack had been rescued from Davy Jones' Locker after a horrible ordeal, and had literally been brought back from the dead. He had always been different from everyone else; some called him mad, but since returning from The Other Side, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that the man was more than just a little bit unhinged. Not in a bad way. Actually, in a very endearing way.

It was upon the return trip that they were gifted by the sea goddess, Calypso, with the revelation that Jack and William were related... their fathers were half brothers, and never knew it. William had been bestowed with a gift of vision... he was able to see into Jack's heart during a time that Jack had fallen deathly ill, and through the gift, the Turners were able to understand Captain Jack Sparrow. The captain was not aware of any of this during his illness, and it was just as well. It as also just as well that Little Will was not made privy to many of the sordid things that had happened to his Cousin Jack; it was too much for a child his age to understand... it would have to wait until he was older, and able to understand the ways of the world better, especially Jack's world. After all was said and done, William and Elizabeth loved the captain for his oddness, and their five year old son, Little Will, absolutely adored the captain for his strange ways.

Elizabeth's responsibilities aboard the ship mainly were to assist Joshamee Gibbs as quartermaster. She had a good mind for sums, and was very much the asset to the Pearl as far as marketplace bartering was concerned. She was also not averse to looking the other way when some petty piracy took place while she bartered. It was all a part of the job.

On this day, the Black Pearl had anchored in a hidden island cove, needing to have minor repairs made while Gibbs and Elizabeth took the long boat to the town to see about replenishing a rather lengthy list of supplies. Since William was not there to watch Little Will, and since the other members of the pirate crew were occupied with the various duties of repair and swabbing of the deck, it was left up to Jack to look after the boy. An idea that was met with some trepidation by the captain.

"I don't know how t' look after wee whelps! Wot do ye do wif 'em? I don't know anythin' about children," was the plaintive response to Elizabeth's request. Jack's dark eyes were wide with alarm, and he held his hands up in front of her as if they were trying to build a stone wall between them. He swayed backward a bit, and tried to look appealing.

She looked at Jack with frustrated eyes and said, "... well, what am I supposed to do, Jack? I need to help Gibbs, and William is not here to help us look after Little Will. It would be fun for both of you... Little Will adores you, and would love to just have you tell him stories! _Clean_ stories...none involving Scarlet and Gisele!"

"... I don't know any clean stories!" Jack pouted. He and Elizabeth stared at each other, and he could see a storm gathering. He rolled his eyes, heaved a heavy sigh, and finally said, "Alright. You win. But I expect a mighty fine load o' sumptuous victuals f' th' captain's table fer me efforts, savvy?" he grumbled... and then slightly smiled. It was true... he was extremely fond of William Turner the Third... and would have some fine fun with his wee cousin.

It was evening. Elizabeth was readying her small son for bed... he was struggling with putting his thin arms through the sleeves of his nightshirt. Life aboard a pirate ship agreed with him... he was small, but wiry, and was already a quick study in the art of sailing. His mother helped him with his sleeves, laughing as one arm appeared through the top of the nightshirt. "Here, silly..."

When his brown mop of curls finally appeared where it should, she rumpled his hair and asked, "So how was your afternoon with Cousin Jack?"

His golden brown eyes shone... he was the very image of his father, especially when he smiled. "Oh, Mama, Cousin Jack taught me so many important things for being a pirate!"

"... did he teach you about the Brethren of the Coast, and the Pirate's Code? Those are very important things to know about!"

"No, Mama, we sang sea chanties, I watched him make a braid in his hair, and he taught me how to spit, and how to slam a mug down onto a table when you finish your drink, and he taught me how to count to five in Irish Gaelic! Would you like to hear me?" was the excited reply.

"... Spit??? Cousin Jack taught you how to _spit???"_

"Aye, Mama! I did really well, too! Cousin Jack said that I did! I hit the middle of the main deck from the quarterdeck, each time, with the wind! And he let me wear his hat!"

Elizabeth frowned. "We shall have to talk to Cousin Jack about the spitting..."

The little one put his chin up as his mother buttoned the front of his nightshirt by candlelight. Elizabeth turned down the blanket in the boy's small bunk, then tucked him in once he had clambered into it. Little Will had become thoughtful for a moment, then he turned his face up to his mother's and asked, "Mama, why is Cousin Jack the way that he is?"

Elizabeth looked at her son, puzzled. "How do you mean, 'the way that he is', darling?"

"...well... he walks strangely... and talks strangely, also... he looks... different, and sometimes it seems like he is far away, when he is right next to me..."

Elizabeth sighed. "Well, littile love, Cousin Jack has problems, you see. He has had many head injuries, and heat stroke, and he also drinks too much rum, sometimes."

Little Will's clear brown eyes looked concerned, "... why does he drink too much rum, Mama?" he asked, quietly.

"Well, Will... no one really knows," was the reply, "...but he has not had a very happy life. His mama died when he was just a year older than you, and his papa did not look out for him like your papa does. Cousin Jack has had a very hard time. He and Papa did not even know that they were cousins until just after we came back from World's End. He thought that he didn't have any family, other than Captain Teague... who abandoned him."

"... didn't Cousin Jack have anyone to love him, Mama?"

"...no, Will, he really didn't. He was all alone for most of his life. Do you remember how Papa and I told you that if I were to have another baby... a little brother or sister for you... that you and I would have to be left on land to keep us safe for a while? It does not mean that Papa does not love you, and it does _not_ mean that you are being abandoned. Well, Cousin Jack has been left alone and abandoned many, many times. Do you know how lonely that makes him feel? It's bound to make him seem strange to others at times."

Little Will's eyes grew wider and more unhappy, as his mother gently continued. "Do you remember the stories about the Kraken that Papa tells you? Cousin Jack has a Kraken tooth on his bandana, remember, darling? That is to remind him that the Kraken hurt him badly, but he survived it. He just has some...bad problems... because of it." Elizabeth did not feel that the true details of Jack's death at the teeth of the Kraken were necessary to illustrate her point to her son. "We simply have to understand and accept Cousin Jack just the way that he is...even if he talks to himself, sometimes."

Little Will was silent, letting the words sink in. He turned his eyes up to his mother's and said, "But Mama... just because we can't see who Cousin Jack is talking to doesn't mean that they aren't there... _we_ just can't see them...and he _can_."

Elizabeth was stunned at her young son's infinite wisdom. She stared at him, humbly. Perhaps Little Will, in his child's way, understood the captain more than she or William ever thought. "That's very true, darling. I never thought of that."

"I don't understand why Cousin Jack's papa did not watch out for him. Did he not love Cousin Jack? _I love him_." The little boy's eyes were starting to brim with tears... he could not fathom a father not loving his little boy.

"We all love Jack, son. Have you ever told Cousin Jack that you love him?" The little one shook his head. "Well, Will, perhaps you should go tell Cousin Jack good night... and what you just told me. I think that he would like that..."

Little Will promptly hopped out of his bunk and scampered across the small cabin to the doorway, and out into the moonlight. Elizabeth watched from the doorway as the boy ran across the main deck and up onto the quarterdeck to the slender silhouetted figure at the wheel of the ship.

The captain looked down at the boy, as the wee one ran up to him, arms outreached. It was obvious that the captain was puzzled, by the way that he moved to pick up the boy. He tied off the wheel and listened to what the little one had to say. The two of them were motionless for a moment, as the captain stared into the boy's small face. Suddenly, he embraced the boy to him, emotionally, and he did something that Elizabeth had never in her life see him do. He kissed the child on the cheek. The little one threw his arms around the captain's neck in a hug that only a child can give. Elizabeth bit her lip and swallowed the lump in her throat.

The captain put the child down, and patted his little rear as he scampered back down the steps and back to his family's snug cabin. Elizabeth looked up at the silhouette against the moon. She smiled as she watched the same silhouette wipe his coat sleeves against his eyes... and then took back the wheel of the Black Pearl, once again.

"Mama?" came the sleepy voice in the dark.

"...yes, darling?"

Little Will, in his small child's voice, tried to imitate the captain's fractured English, "Cousin Jack said tha' he likes havin' cousins t' be cousins wif. It makes things much more better."

Elizabeth smiled. She wished that William could have heard that.

۞


	26. The Cliffs of Connemara

_**Author's note: **__This is yet another offshoot of my long fics, "Thicker Than Water","Calypso's Hand" and "The Ties That Bind". Jack and Will find out that they are cousins in "Thicker Than Water", which takes place after "Calypso's Hand"..."The Ties That Bind" is the third in the story arc. Not necessary to read those... but I would be delighted if ye did! Pirate Cat_

۞

"... We're lost, aren't we, Jack?" Elizabeth looked around them, wiping the perspiration from her forehead and looking at her companions. She, William, Jack, and the Turner's 10 year old son, Will, had been tramping around the countryside of County Galway for hours, and it was rather a warm day, especially for the climate of western Ireland.

"...I thought tha' I could remember th' countryside... it ain't tha' big of an area 'round here," Jack perched himself, glumly, on a stone fence and looked up and down the tiny country road in confusion. "... things 'ave changed..."

William sat down next to his friend, and said, "It has been years since you left here, Jack... things are bound to change... are you sure that you got the directions right from the pub owner back there where the road divided?"

"I'd had some ale, lad... ye know wha' ale does t' me...worse 'n' rum..." Jack frowned. They all fell into silence, Elizabeth and William staring at the captain, while little Will was balancing himself on the top of the stone fence, singing to himself, "...yo ho, yo ho..."

Little Will finally turned to look at his parents and their best friend. They were in Ireland, upon this, the tenth anniversary of the beginning of his father's service to the Flying Dutchman, and a celebration of William's complete release from same said duty. Jack's homeland was Ireland, and it was promised to him by William and Elizabeth that they would accompany him to his native land... a land that was famous for its disregard for the crown of England, and for its willingness to harbor fugitives. In discovering that they were related by blood, William also thought it good to bring his wife and son to this place that was also a part of his heritage... a heritage that he shared with the pirate captain slouched next to him.

The mission at hand was not altogether greeted with enthusiasm by Captain Jack Sparrow, whose memories of this place were not all happy ones. He was left alone by his mother's death at the age of six... his mother had died very young, as she had never recovered from her only son's premature birth aboard his father's ship, and they had lived in abject poverty with only occasional stipends sent by Captain Teague, Jack's estranged father. His mother, having been a beautiful young Irish gypsy lass, was a skilled lacemaker and seamstress, and had made some money to support her and her illigitimate son, but there was never enough. She was a gypsy... an unmarried mother... and her son was the offspring of a well known pirate. Things were not easy... then she died...

Little Will came over and sat himself down on Jack's other side, as they all passed around a jug of water that Elizabeth had brought along in a basket. She pulled out some slices of lime for all of them, to help quench their thirst and satisfy Jack's voracious cravings for the same. As they all puckered up their faces at each other, she said, "... we should just rest for while, here, and try to figure out where we are... let's go sit in the shade for a bit. This is really a lovely place..."

William looked closely at Jack... who was lost in thought as he looked around. As Elizabeth took Will and they sat down under a green, leafy tree, William looked at his friend and said, softly, in the Irish Gaelic that Jack had taught him to speak, "We're not lost, are we?...you know exactly where we are. I have seen you looking at your compass."

Jack turned sad eyes to William and replied, "... see that stone fireplace chimney over there, cousin?" Jack pointed, and William nodded. Jack heaved a very deep sigh, and said, "... that was our cottage... tha's where I was taken from when they came t' take me mother's body away... they burned it t' th' ground as they hauled me away..." William turned his eyes back to Jack, who was staring at the stone chimney, memories flooding back into his eyes... painful, horrible memories of being sold into slavery as an orphan with no legal guardian... a half gypsy bastard child, with no one to take him in. William pulled a small flask of rum out of his shirt, and passed to Jack, who was swallowing hard and trying to fight back tears that he did not want Elizabeth and Little Will to see.

They rested for a while longer... Elizabeth kept her son busy, but they both could see that Jack was having a hard time... William was the only one that could talk to him when Jack was struggling in his mind... so she knew that it was best to let them be for a little while. She also suspected that they were not really lost at all... it was Jack's courage that was slipping... his courage to face down the demons of his childhood that bubbled to the surface every now and then, along with all of the other hallucinations that he had been fighting for years.

Finally, Jack and William stood up and turned to the pair, and William called out, "Come on, you two...Jack has remembered where we are, and we need to get going... " Elizabeth and little Will jumped up, and they resumed their journey along the lovely green countryside. Jack seemed to be a bit better, and entertained them with stories of this place, Connemara, and even jumping a little when he claimed that he saw a leprechaun. "...nasty dispositions they have, laddie, so t'would be a good idea t' watch fer 'em... they don't like bein' stepped on, an' they pack a pinch even meaner 'n' yer mother's, there..." Elizabeth playfully punched Jack on the arm, and they continued.

As they rounded a bend in the little road, Jack ceased his merry storytelling, and stopped dead in his wobbly tracks... ahead, in a glen, was what they had come to find... it was a small graveyard, somewhat overgrown, with many ancient stone crosses jutting out of the ground, as though they had grown there like grass. They all stood there in silence, and William and Elizabeth both took one of Jack's arms. They could actually feel his heart pounding as they stood next to him... it was if he was rooted into the ground, like the stone grave markers. Little Will came around his father, looked ahead, and then looked up at Cousin Jack... a man who had always treated him as an equal, and whom Little Will completely adored. It pained him to see the look on the captain's face, and he wrapped his arms around Jack's slender waist, and with his hand, he pulled on one of Jack's waist long dreadlocks that trailed down the captain's back, and stared up at him.

Jack looked down at the boy, and straight into his innocent eyes... Jack had never, ever remembered being that innocent. Little Will, in all of his child's wisdom, finally took Jack's hand and pulled him forward... this was something that had to be done...

They all walked into the graveyard in utter silence. They all knew that they might never find Magdalena Sparrow's grave, for she had been a pauper, and had died of fever. The victims of the fever epidemic had all been buried in a common grave, with no markers... Jack's mother was among them.

Elizabeth looked at Jack's dark face, and she finally thought of something. As they all stopped among the Celtic crosses, she said, "... the compass, Jack... to find that which you want the most..." He stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. "... leave it to William's bonny lass...I'm ashamed I didn't think of it, meself," he smiled, and he reached down and opened the compass... as he, William and Elizabeth all held it in their hands, the needle did not even spin once... the red arrow pointed directly ahead of them.

They went forward, slowly and reverently... little Will had gone on ahead, picking flowers and watching those who had loved him since before he was born.. unconditionally and without fail. He pondered what it would have been like without them... and his young mind could not begin to fathom what Jack had been through. As the trio approached, he kept walking onward, just ahead of them. He looked up, and gasped in wonder.

Before him, on the edge of the graveyard, was the sea... the sparkling, shining, craggy coast of Ireland... just below, in the protective bay, was the moored Black Pearl... their home. As he looked back to his family, they were utterly astonished to find that the compass pointed directly to the left of little Will... he had... they had.. found the final resting place of Magdalena Sparrow...

As they all looked up in awe, they drank in the surroundings... they were upon the edge of the graveyard and it's surrounding canopy of thick trees. This was an open glen, with myriads of Irish wildflowers in yellow and pink, blowing in the wind, like waves of the ocean. There were birds singing, and the far off cry of gulls. The wind was sweeping up the cliffs, and the salt air was all around them, filling their lungs and their hearts. Jack's glumness was suddenly lifted, and he looked up into the blue sky, and smiled.

Little Will looked up at them all, and grinned, "Isn't it beautiful? It's like she is next to the sea! Like she can see you, Cousin Jack!" Jack looked down at the boy and rumpled his brown hair, and said, "Well, if she couldn't be buried a' sea, this might be th' next best thing, eh, laddie?" His smile faded a bit, as the child knelt down and placed his wilting bouquet of wildflowers down upon the ground next to him... they had not even told the boy that this was the place... and yet he knew. Jack felt a lump forming in his throat again, and William instinctively handed him the flask of rum.

As the Turner family quietly walked off for a small distance to let their friend have some privacy, Elizabeth put her arm through her husband's, and William put his hand over hers. "It is lovely, isn't it?" she said. William nodded and replied, "Jack was expecting someplace dark and cold...much like his memories of his past... I think that he will feel a bit better about things... now." William paused, and said, with feeling, "... she would have been my aunt..."

And they watched as their friend remove his tricorn hat, and listened as he roughly and hesitantly sang a Gaelic folk song... an Irish lullaby... the only song that he could remember hearing from his mother's lips...and they heard him say, in his husky voice, "_Tá grá agam duit, Mama..." _William and Elizabeth had both learned enough Gaelic to know what that meant... "I love you, Mama..."

Jack Sparrow stood there until the sun was hanging low in the sky... without urging, he placed his hat crookedly back upon his dark head, and they finally made their way back to the tiny road, lined with the stone fence. As they left the graveyard, they all turned to look one last time. The captain smiled at the lovely pink and orange rays of sun as they bounced off of the water and into the blue sky. With William and Elizabeth Turner's urging, Jack Sparrow finally was able to make some peace with his past...with their love and friendship, he was finally able to have the courage to sing a song of mourning... and find that there was beauty at his mother's grave...

...a burial place overlooking the wild sea that was in her son's pirate blood... high up on the windswept cliffs of Connemara...

۞


	27. Tentacles

۞

Captain Jack Sparrow lifted his tricorn hat from over his face, as he glanced over at his first mate, who had his pale blue bandana pulled down low over his eyes... they were both soaking up some sun upon the main deck upon this fine afternoon. The Black Pearl was sailing toward the possibility of treasure that was rumored to be upon a Spanish galleon due into Jamaica, and it seemed like a raid just waiting to happen... sailing was good upon this afternoon, and Mr. Cotton was at the wheel. Jack and First Mate William Turner the Second were relaxing before they would lay in wait for their Spanish friends to show up.

"William?"

"Yes, Jack..." came the sleepy reply, one of William's brown eyes opening a crack under the bandana to regard the captain.

"Why do ye suppose tha' Davy Jones grew tentacles, _really_?" Jack's mind was wandering more than usual today, and this was a conundrum that had bothered him for some time.

William sat up and looked at Jack like he had suddenly turned purple. "What brought on a queston like that?" he frowned.

Jack twiddled a hand idly in the air, and cleared his throat, "Welllll... I thought it was because Calypso did him wrong after he had served before th' mast faithfully for 10 years, an' he was very unhappy, an' he cut out 'is heart, then grew tentacles."

William stared at Jack for this extremely condensed version of the story of Davy Jones, as Jack's eyes looked back at him with a certain hint of trepidation in them. He always knew when Jack was nervous about something when the captain's mustache twitched. "What are you getting at, Jack?" William asked, suspiciously.

"Ummm," Jack continued, with a hint of worry in his voice, "Do ye suppose tha' _Calypso_ did it to him, somehow? I know tha' she was betrayed right back by Jones, an' imprisoned in human form by th' Brethren because Jones tol' them how t' do it, but... do ye suppose tha' Calypso can do that t' someone that she might be angry wif? Make 'em grow tentacles?" His tanned hand reached for the two small, beaded braids upon his chin, and he twiddled them to the point that he nearly pulled the beads off of them.

William finally understood, as he smiled at his companion, who was now nervously winding a dreadlock around his finger, as he thought this over.

"Jack, Tia Dalma liked you. She liked me. She has done us favors, even as she has returned to her form as Calypso. Are you concerned about something between you and Tia Dalma in the past?" William grinned slyly, as Jack's dreadlock finally became tangled around his slender finger, and he had to shake his hand wildly to free it.

He looked at William and said, bluntly, "Yeah." Jack's eyes grew quite round, but he did not seem to wish to elaborate.

William stretched out his long legs, and prepared to go back to his nap. Jack stared at him for a moment, then reached over and poked William's arm, rather hard. "Well??? William???"

"I wouldn't worry about it, Jack." William smiled, biting his lip a bit to keep from laughing, "... I'm afraid that _you_ are a _small _matter to Calypso, in the grand scheme of things. She has better things to think about than you..."

Jack wasn't sure if he should be relieved... or insulted. "Captain Jack Sparrow is never a _small_ matter," he huffed to himself. William bit his lip harder. But then, Jack reasoned, relief might be a better thing... but remembering the incident that might cause concern, he would keep an eye out for tentacles on his chin, just in case.

Uneasily, Jack pulled his tricorn back down over his own face and kept rubbing his chin... as his first mate tried hard not to laugh, for deliberately adding to his addled friend's worry... for as deep as their friendship had become, and knowing that they would both fight to the death for each other, William thought, with a low chuckle, sometimes he simply could not resist gently poking fun back at his friend... William reasoned to himself, with a grin, that it made up for all of the eunuch jokes...

۞


	28. Tattoos

_**Disclaimer: **I looked, and they all still belong to Disney. Hoist the colours of the Mouse!_

_**Author's note: **As always in my Pirates world, William is free of his curse. He and Elizabeth have joined the crew of the Pearl. Pirate Cat_

۞

"Jack...we've been wondering..." William began, as he mopped his face with the tails of his pale blue bandana, rinsing his face off with cool water. The day was stifling hot in the sun, even for the Caribbean. The Black Pearl was moored off of the coast of Saint Kitts, in order to mend some sails that had been ripped by a storm that Jack had managed to skirt the worst of... the only damage was to the mainsail, and First Mate William Turner the Second and Captain Jack Sparrow had just climbed down from the rigging to help make certain that everything was repaired properly by the seasoned crew. They were both shirtless in the hot sun...even a simple task such as inspecting the sails was nearly unendurable.

"...wot ye wonderin', whelp?" the captain asked, as he also mopped his dark face, the water dripping off of his small nose and making him sneeze, creating a flurry of jingling beads. "Bless you..." giggled Elizabeth, as she handed them both tall mugs of fresh water to drink... Jack screwed up his face and muttered, "I needs all o' th' blessin' I can get...water...eewww."

William stood up straight and stretched, as he flexed his shoulders, "We've been wondering...when we took care of you while you were sick a while back, we couldn't help but notice all of your tattoos. We were wondering what the stories were behind them..." William was quite proud of his own tattoo, one that Jack, himself had designed, as a former tattoo artist... Jack also had the same tattoo upon the left side of his chest; a stylized heart of Davy Jones with a dagger stabbing through it (Jack could not draw a broken sword)... the dagger had a tiny sparrow perched upon the hilt. They wished to remember their shared experience and it was a sailor's tradition to be tattooed with memories.

"Yes, Jack, I am more than curious about some of your 'artwork'," Elizabeth smiled, as the captain looked himself over as though he had never seen his own body before. Indeed, he was an interesting combination of tattoos, scars and smooth deeply bronzed skin.

Jack swayed back a bit as he stretched his arms out before him, and chuckled, "I forgot that you have seen me naked whilst I was beset wif illness, Izzy." His eyebrow quirked up and he smiled wickedly, "_You_ still owe _me_ a peek, lass..."

Elizabeth shook her head adamently and said, "Sorry, Jack. You'd bled all over, were knocked out cold, and we had stitch up your head and strip off your bloody clothes... ... it was not enjoyable...and I do not plan to place myself in the same situation that you were in." Jack pouted a bit, and then brightened, "Alright then, which tattoo do ye want t' know 'bout first?"

The young couple looked at Jack as if he was a statue that they were considering for purchase, then Elizabeth tentatively reached out and pointed, "The anchor?" Jack stared at his right shoulder, and frowned, "That one, missy, is the most boring one, really. It was me first one... I was maybe about 14 at th' time... it was th' first time I ever got drunk wif your father," Jack nodded toward William, who was now pouring a libation that was a tad more burning and satisfying than a mug of water. Jack smiled appreciatively as they all sat down to rest in the shade. "In all honesty, I was so drunk, then so hungover, I really don't remember much 'bout it...gettin' snockered wif Bill was more interestin' than gettin' the tattoo was..." he frowned at it, again. "I really must get tha' one touched up into somethin' more interestin'."

William took a long drink and then said, "What about the mermaid under the anchor, that looks a bit like Scarlett?" Jack glared at him and growled, "Bite your tongue, lad... that is purely by chance, an' I don't remember how I got tha' one, either..." the captain shrugged, almost apologetically. William continued, "The dragon on your lower back?"

Jack smiled smugly and replied, "Singapore... th' first time around when I insulted Sao Feng." They had never gotten an explanation from Jack about that one... and from the mysterious smile upon his dark face, it seemed that they would not get one this time, either. Elizabeth laughed, "What about the other ones that you _do_ remember?"

Jack fell silent for a long moment, looking himself over and thinking back over the circumstances that brought the captain to wish to remember these events by forever having them inked upon his body. Elizabeth had always been particularly curious about two of the tattoos that Jack bore, and he looked at her with a level dark gaze as she looked at his badly scarred left arm. The lightning bolt scar traversed all the way up the underside of his arm, from his wrist to his armpit... a burn that was inflicted upon the captain when his ship was firebombed out from under him by the East India Trade Company. There was a tattoo around his left bicep... a chain with two broken links, as if his very muscles were bursting them apart. "That one?" she asked softly.

Jack smiled, "Broken shackles, Izzy. Broken shackles of slavery... broken shackles of authority... freedom." He sipped his rum and waited for the couple to continue. William ran a hand over his deeply scarred chest, and remembered that there was one tattoo upon Jack's back that was no longer visible in it's entirety. "Your back, Jack... what about that one."

Jack's eyes widened, as he craned his neck to try to look over his shoulder to his back, "I forgot about tha' one..." He then said nothing for a moment, as his eyes met William's. Both of them had badly scarred backs from undeserved floggings. William said nothing, and looked at Jack over the edge of his mug. Elizabeth couldn't tell what either of them was thinking, and she bit her lip, wondering what the captain would say.

"That one, young Turners," Jack said, after another long, slow swallow of rum, "...was an Irish harp at one time. My mother played the Irish harp..." he continued, "...Cutler Beckett's little pet, Mr. Mercer, took care o' that tattoo wif a cat o' nine tails once I was plucked from th' sea by th' Endeavor after they sank me ship... Mercer laid me back open, an' ruined a perfectly lovely tattoo...I eked out a bit o' revenge for that one, though." He smiled and winked at his companions, however, as they all smirked at the story that Jack had told them of the mark that he had left upon Beckett.

Elizabeth sipped her own rum and said to Jack, "I am really surprised that you don't have a tattoo of the Black Pearl, Jack... only the words 'The Black Pearl', here." She traced her finger over the ornately scripted tattoo that was arced over his own heart.

Jack looked at that one fondly, "That one I got after the mutiny..." there was a momentary silence, once again, as the three friends thought over the circumstance that had brought them all together... then Jack concluded by saying, simply, "I didn't have any home, let alone money... I had the simple words 'The Black Pearl' tattooed over my heart in my own handwriting... didn't need anythin' more 'n' that..."

After a few moments of thought, William grinned, "Besides, Jack, you're so scrawny that there isn't enough of you to tattoo the entire Pearl upon." Jack drew himself up indignantly, then deflated a bit, when Elizabeth laughed out loud, visualizing the slender captain covered from head to toe in a tattoo of a ship...William was right.

William stretched again, and said, "I have been thinking of getting another tattoo." Elizabeth turned and looked at her husband curiously, as she loved his tattoo that Jack had designed. "Another one, Will? What would you get?" She was geniunely interested, as was Jack, who hoped that he might be called upon to design another one for his best friend.

William smiled at his wife and said, "The Dead Man's Chest." Jack nearly choked upon his rum as Elizabeth's eyes grew wide. William enjoyed the reaction that he had gotten, "... the Dead Man's Chest, opened and empty... " William took Elizabeth's hand and slowly drew it to his scarred chest. "...to remind me of where my heart is, now." Elizabeth's hand pressed against her husband's strong muscled chest... a chest with a strong, beating heart under that long, jagged scar.

Elizabeth's eyes softened and she looked into her husband's loving brown eyes, and said, "... if you were to do that, my love, then I would get a tattoo of the key..." she smiled, "...to always remind us that nothing... not even the Dead Man's Chest... can contain our love..." She leaned into a long, soft kiss, her hands going from William's chest to run her fingers through his long, curly dark hair.

As the young couple was lost in each other's embrace upon the deck of his dark ship, Jack observed them with a grin, munching upon a handful of peanuts... and he wondered if he could make a draw'ring of the Dead Man's Chest... and of the key...

۞

Elizabeth watched with wide eyes, as William kept handing Jack what was now his second bottle of rum... the tattoo that he was having done on his right shoulder was extensive, and as a result, painful. William kept watching Jack's face closely, as the captain's eyes were becoming more and more unfocused with drink, and his words were becoming more and more slurred.

"... how are ye comin', Jenks?" Jack swiveled his head around to his favorite Tortugan tattoo artist, a large burly man with not an inch of skin upon his own body that was not covered in ornate designs of various and sundry subjects, all related to a long career as a pirate before retiring to a less hazardous profession... less hazardous as long as he kept his wild customers satisfied or too drunk to remember where they had been when they were illustrated by his broad hand. He always had a scabbard strapped to his side and a pistol in his belt, and several bottles lined up in case he had to take one to an unruly customer's head. Jenks had retired to land since he had lost his leg in an explosion of a powder magazine, and he clumped about upon an ornately carved wooden leg...Elizabeth smiled to herself, it was as if the pegleg had been tattooed by whittling.

"I'm comin' along fine, Jack... just another couple o' hours an' we'll have ye a fine new tattoo!" the stout man grinned as he kept working with his needles and ink, reaching for a towel now and then to wipe away the blood that was seeping a bit from the captain's dark shoulder. Jack winced and took another swig of rum, then glanced up at the Turners, who had smiles upon their faces at the scene before them... "wot you two grinnin' at?" he asked, blearily.

William was also a bit tipsy, as his tattoo was also rather extensive and had taken the entire morning. They had taken a break for getting a bite to eat at the Faithful Bride with Scarlett, who was up and about early on in the day for one of her profession. Elizabeth had enjoyed a long conversation with the buxom redhead, who was quite admiring the lovely work of art that now adorned William's left bicep.

"Jack designed it..." William hiccuped a little, breaking off a large slab of bread clumsily and chopping a chunk of cheese from the wheel that was placed in the middle of the table.

He took a deep breath as Elizabeth delicately touched it with her finger, smiling at Scarlett, "It's the Dead Man's Chest, open and empty... and Jack even drew it to show where the hinge is missing... the hinge that was made into our wedding rings." The tattoo was quite intricate, with the carvings and the crab shaped lock so real in its appearance that it looked as though one could touch the art and actually feel the textures that were now a permenant part of William's tanned skin. William looked at his tattoo with a great deal of satisfaction... the open chest that now adorned him had deep meaning, as he smiled slightly as he turned and looked into Elizabeth's loving eyes.

Scarlett looked at it closely, her face filled admiration. She turned to Jack, who was looking on proudly at William's new tattoo, his golden teeth catching the glint of the bright sunlight as it came through a grimy window by their table. "Scarlett, darling, show William and Izzy your tattoo!"

"What?" Elizabeth's eyes popped as she turned to stare at Scarlett, who grinned back. Elizabeth had only been joking when she had said that she would get a tattoo of the key to the Dead Man's Chest, as she had never heard of a woman getting inked before, and certainly not a lady of her former social standing. She was astounded, then fascinated, as Scarlett lifted the hem of her voluminous skirt to reveal a tiny illustration upon her slender ankle. It was a rose, with a beautiful curving stem and tendril-like leaves curling around.

"Lovely, ain't it?" Scarlett turned her ankle, as William caught himself ogling it, much to Jack's amusement and Elizabeth's frown at him. Scarlett explained, "My mum's name was Rosalie... she sold flowers by the docks o' Port Royal when I was little. Me father died at sea, an' she would sell wee lil' tuzzys t' those comin' in from their ships t' take t' their sweethearts in order t' support me an' me brother... she died when I was 18... me brother ran off t' sea, an' I came 'ere." Scarlett ran her fingers over the tattoo, affectionately, "I always 'ave 'er here with me, even if it is just a picture of a rose... Jack designed it for me."

William turned to Elizabeth and said nothing, but she knew what was going through his mind... she looked at Jack, and said, "Do you suppose that the tavernkeep might have something to draw with, Jack?"

Jack grinned and thought that their return to Master Jenks' tattoo emporium after their meal would certainly turn into an interesting visit.

۞

They all were back upon the Pearl for the evening, after walking off the effects of their rum... or at least attempting to walk off the effects. In Jack's case, it was not always obvious, since his walk was naturally wobbly and most could not tell if he was tipsy or not... this evening, they were all sitting upon the main deck and discussing the events of the day.

As they looked out over the torchlit streets of Tortuga City, Elizabeth cuddled baby Will to her as she fed him. It had been a wonderful day in port, and they had enjoyed themselves immensely. William and Jack were shirtless, once again, as the night was hot and they were rather sore after the rum began wearing off.

Elizabeth rocked Little Will in her arms as she said, "Jack, turn around so I can see your shoulder, again!" The captain grinned at her in a cheeky manner, and said, "Can't get enough, can ye, lass?" She snorted with feigned disgust as he obligingly turned around to show off his shoulder. William examined it closely and smiled, also. "That is a damned good likeness, Jack. I think that you should have had this done a long time ago..."

Jack swiveled his head around and looked down at his new artwork, just a bit crosseyed in order to see it more clearly. "I didn't have th' inspiration 'til you two came along," he chuckled.

Just as he had mentioned several days back, he had decided to have his old tattoos redone, especially at the insistance of the Turners, since they were heading into Tortuga for supplies. It was indeed, quite the improvement, for the anchor was now more intricately rendered, and it now had a beautiful rudder chain wound around it in an artful pattern... the chain ran down the length of Jack's upper arm, to what used to be the mermaid... the mermaid that was now metamorphasized into the angelic figurehead of the Black Pearl, holding a wee sparrow in her outstretched hand.

"Ye know, William, this is much more better..." the captain expounded, tossing his head back proudly, "We have taken me old tattoo, wot I got when I was sailin' wif your father, an' have given it a whole new twist thanks t' both of your suggestions... an' th' mermaid, wot I don't even remember gettin', is now representin' o' me Dark Lady. Who says I'm too scrawny t' have me Pearl tattooed upon me ripplin' bicep, mates? This..." he said, smugly,"... is th' essence o' me Pearl!"

William laughed out loud and said, "And at least this time you are not too drunk to remember it." Jack winced, "It hurts... I _wanted_ t' remember it this time, or I might have been too drunk..." He turned to look at Elizabeth and said, "And you, Izzy?" Jack grinned widely, "Let's see _your_ tattoo!"

Elizabeth giggled a little, then blushed more deeply than either of them had ever seen her blush before. If her father was alive, he would be mortified... but things were much different, now, and she wished to join her two most loved ones in a representation of the memories that they were all creating together. She giggled again, as William and Jack grinned expectantly. She had asked Scarlett to be present with them at the tattoo establishment, for the sake of her dignity as well as for moral support... the latter being more important.

She looked around to see if anyone else was watching, and carefully... almost shyly... pulled down open the front of her shirt ever so slightly. Her two men smiled at her proudly, as she revealed only to them, a small and graceful tattoo of the key... the very key to the Dead Man's Chest, tied to a tiny blue ribbon... the representation of ribbon from Singapore that tied off a single braid in William's hair...her ribbon that he had carried with him while still the captain of the Flying Dutchman. It was tattooed over her own heart.

Elizabeth smiled at Jack, and said, softly, "Thank you, Jack. It is a lovely 'draw'ring'. Mr. Jenks does wonderful work."

William got up to get another bottle from the rum cellar, and as he passed by, he reached down and kissed her hair softly, enjoying his wife's small and merry moment of pirate rebelliousness. "It's beautiful, darling... " Elizabeth looked up at her handsome husband with shining eyes, and he kissed her, again, then glanced at her tattoo admiringly until she self consciously covered it back up... from now on, it was only for William's and baby Will's eyes.

They both looked over at the captain, who leaned over and replied, mischieviously, "You're welcome fer the draw'ring, Izzy... an' ye impressed me, lass... ye had a tattoo done wifout a single drop o' rum!" The Turners laughed, as the captain shook his head in solemn and utter admiration.

۞


	29. Reflections

_I dedicate this moody little one shot to purplediamond7. Thanks for the "shirtless Jack" challenge. Fair winds, mate. (Pirate Cat raises her mug of rum and tips her tricorn...)_

۞

Jack had several shirts just like it, so it really should not matter that this particular shirt had finally worn through during this day, and needed to be discarded. He looked at it in his hands, as he ruefully prepared to give it it's own burial at sea... it was, by far, the softest of the cotton shirts that he'd had made with the thinnest of linen that he'd picked up in India; this one was the original one that he'd worn and washed countless times, prior to finally getting his ship back, twice, now, with William's help. It was a wonder that it had not worn out before now. He opened up the cabinet that was next to his bunk.

He was startled, as he looked up, to see his own reflection in the looking glass that was attached to the inside of the cabinet. He had forgotten that it was there... he seemed to forget many things these days, he thought, as he continued to stare at his own image; his vest, yards of unwound striped sash and two bulky leather belts were laying upon the mahogany table beside him. He had almost forgotten what he looked like, shirtless, until his reflection caught his attention by surprise. His waist long ebony dreadlocks and trailing strands of beads draped over bare skin. As the captain's dark brown eyes took in the reflection, his slender hand rubbed absently over his chest, much like William's did, these days. He studied himself with a slight frown.

He was only 37 years old, yet he always tried to put forth the image that he was older, as many pirates that might sail under him would not take kindly to having such a young man as their captain, no matter how good he was to them. Sometimes he wondered if he was too good to them, but then, it was not in him to be malevolent. He had been naive... it was because of this naivete and his young age that he had been brutally mutineed upon.

He had been roughed up that night, and had been kicked in the chest rather hard as he had been pitched overboard... no ribs were broken, and it had only knocked the wind out of him, but there had been a pretty hefty gash left there by the toe of a boot. At least his ribs were no longer visible, like they were when he was a starving child chained in the hold of a slave ship. His ribs had shone through, then... Jack ran his fingers over them, and was glad that they were not sticking out like they had 30 years ago.

Jack's troubled eyes wandered to the two old, healed gunshot wounds on the right side of his breastbone... he should have been dead from these, but he had lived. One of the rounds had been dug out by Bootstrap Bill Turner, with the very dagger that William now carried in his own striped sash. The other round was still rattling about in his chest somewhere. Jack smiled to himself, absently, as he thought of the whelp, who made a friendly joke of Jack's almost delicate appearance... William always called him "scrawny".

Jack continued to look at his reflection, as his hands quieted, uncharacteristically at his sides. His chest was not broad, nor were his shoulders. His waist was wasp-thin, as were his arms... it was at this moment that it truly dawned upon him that William was right, although he had never meant to be hurtful. Jack was scrawny.

A pang of sadness krept into him for a moment, his hand once again tracing the various scars and tattoos that told their stories upon his naturally dark body. It was interesting to think that most people thought that he was tanned by the sun, when the truth of the matter was that he was born this color... the sun only darkened him further. He sighed heavily, as he thought of his mother, who also had beautiful dark skin and thick black hair... his own hair was in what they called dreadlocks in the Caribbean... in his native land they were called Celtic ropes. He had nearly forgotten that.

As his hand finally rested over his heart, he could feel it beating under his ribs. It had stopped for a while... he had been dead. He could not remember what it had felt like when it started again, as the Black Pearl righted itself in the water after the escape from the dreaded Locker. There had been no time... everyone had an agenda... a reason for rescuing him... he did not have time to celebrate being alive at that point, but had discovered that, in the end, the ones that meant to most to him and were the dearest to him were glad that he was alive. He smiled. His heart was beating under that dark skin... beating strong and true, thanks to those who truly wanted it to... those who had finally proven themselves to be his true friends.

As his eyes traveled back up to gaze into themselves in the looking glass, they regained their trademark sparkle. He might be the most likely one to be blown overboard in a gale, yet he was one that always held onto the wheel and tamed the sea with the Black Pearl responding to his wispy hands. Jack Sparrow was not all that tall, but no one seemed to notice it when mesmerized by the ocean movement that overtook his lithe body, naturally. Sao Feng might have easily picked the captain up with one hand, as he delivered him to Lord Cutler Beckett... but who was the one left alive?

Jack Sparrow tilted his head back and smiled at his shirtless reflection for a moment longer. He then donned a less worn shirt which was identical to the one that was soon to be discarded ... a shirt with puffy sleeves that hid his thin arms... then his vest that was worn to make his shoulders look a bit broader ... he wound his long sash around his waist three times before ornately tying it. As the captain buckled both of the belts that he wore in order to appear brawnier than he was, he grinned. He might be slender, delicate looking, downright scrawny... but there was one thing that was true... in spite of his appearance, he was could always muster up strength from within, and an amazing amount of it...

As he placed his hat upon his head, he took one last look at his reflection in the looking glass, nodded to himself with a wink... then quietly closed and locked the cabinet door.

۞

Return to Top


	30. The North Star

_**Author's note: **One more spinoff of my three long fics. Jack and William are cousins, and the Turners are crew aboard the Pearl. Pirate Cat_

۞

"Cousin Jack?" came the wispy voice of Little Will Turner, as he stood shivering upon the quarterdeck of the mighty Black Pearl, "Cousin Jack, I'm cold... why must we have a lesson in navigation tonight?"

Captain Jack Sparrow looked down upon his wee little five year old half first cousin, once removed... his kohl lined dark eyes crinkled around the corners only a tiny bit, as he kept his lips from smiling at the very image of William Turner the Second in his first mate's son. The night was indeed, cold, as the mighty Black Pearl was skirting up the coast of the North American colonies in order to retrieve William, the first mate of the Black Pearl and the advisor to the captain of the ghost ship, the Flying Dutchman from his latest two week assignment aiding Captain James Norrington.

"Little Whelpie," the captain replied, as the child sniffled and crowded up closer to the captain's thin legs than Jack normally would like, "... tonight is th' most opportune moment t' observe th' stars in th' clearest sky wot I have seen in a long time. We need t' take advantage of it in order fer ye t' really get a grasp on wot I am about t' explain t' ye..."

In a completely unexpected move, the slender captain turned the wheel over to Mr. Cotton, took the boy's hand, identical to his own, as cousins - a fact that had always fascinated the captain - and he led the child down the steps to the main deck, to a very large, circular coil of rope. As the boy watched with a great deal of curiosity that quickly put the thought of how cold it was out of his mind, the captain took off his long, wide cuffed coat, laid it aside, sat down in the coil of rope comfortably, and beckoned the child to join him. This was, indeed, an unprecedented event, as Jack was not one that liked anyone touching him much, even Little Will.

As the boy delightedly climbed into the captain's lap, Jack made him lay back against his thin chest, then reached over and pulled his coat over both of them. Grinning at each other, they were perfectly reclined in the rope coil to gaze at the sparkling and amazing mass of stars that crossed the breadth of the black sky.

"Did ye look a' th' chart o' th' constellations tha' I gave t' ye, lad? That chart is just fer you, an' a captain must always takes care o' yer charts. Can ye pick out any o' th' star pictures tha' were on th' chart?" Little Will could see the captain's breath as he spoke, but the child was already becoming warm under the cover of his cousin's coat. Looking at the sky, he answered, "Aye, captain." Jack smirked... fast learner, this one.

"I can see the Big Dipper, and the Little Dipper. The Big Dipper is also a part of Pegasus, and there is Orion, the Hunter..." The little one was pointing his finger in the proper places, and Jack could not help but feel a bit proud of himself for allowing the child to have a chart. The captain had a peculiar fondness for charts, having been a cartographer's apprentice in his youth, and being a pirate, he tended to also be a bit selfish.

"Aye, lad, you have yer father's eye fer navigatin'. Remember tha' th' North Star is constant... it never moves... all o' th' other stars in th' sky revolve around it, an' tha' is th' star tha' we use t' aim th' instruments o' navigation at. Sometime soon we shall let ye take a closer look a' th' instruments tha' sailors use, an' someday ye will be able t' find your way anywhere in th' world." Jack said, pulling the cork from a small bottle of rum that he always kept hidden about in the ropes. This was such a familiar action to the child that it did not faze him in the least... he could not begin to imagine Cousin Jack without a bottle of rum nearby. Jack took a small sip from the brown bottle.

Leaning his dark curly hair into Jack's whiskered, beaded chin, Little Will idly reached a hand up and placed it around Jack's neck, thinking. "Would the charts take me to World's End?"

Jack was quite startled by this question, so much so that his mustache twitched and he blinked. Turning his head ever so slightly as to look into the boy's soft brown eyes out of the corner of his own, he asked, "Wot makes ye wants t' go there?"

"I don't really. I have just heard so many stories about it from Mama and Papa that I wondered if it was a real place?"

Jack pondered this for a moment, and said, softly, "It's a real place, little laddie. You don't want to go there. It's as real as th' Flying Dutchman, or as Calypso, an' you know that they are both real, although many people don't. Put World's End out o' yer head, laddie." Jack's eyes clouded over a bit at the thought of this place that the boy was wishing to talk about on this crisp evening.

Little Will began running his hand through the captain's thick long dreadlocks, and continued as though he had not heard, "Mama says that World's End is where you proved that you are the greatest pirate that ever lived..."

"She says wot? Your mama? Izzy said that?" Jack was completely astonished. His friendship with William and Elizabeth was deep and unbreakable, but the relationship that Jack and Elizabeth had was always one of teasing and challenging, goodnatured insults and smiling threats. Compliments were rare.

"Aye, Cousin Jack." the child continued, snuggling his face into the captain's neck and no longer looking at the sky. "Mama and Papa both say that you are the greatest pirate that ever lived... but that you have a good heart... and it gets in the way, sometimes."

Jack Sparrow fell silent as he thought this over... it had been over five years since the events that had taken place at World's End, and they were events that none of this pirate family would ever forget, even if they wished that they could. It was then though, he thought, that he, William and Elizabeth had forged their friendship deeply, a constant, comforting thing that had been sorely missing in Jack's life, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

"Maybe I have a good heart, Little Whelpie, but don't tell anyone, savvy? I have a reputation to uphold..." the captain said, but it fell on sleeping ears. Little Will had fallen into slumber, lulled by the movement of the Pearl as she sailed through the water, and comforted by the beating of Jack's own heart against his back.

Jack looked at the sleeping child that he was holding, and thought, for the millionth time, how much he looked like his papa. And as he tucked the coat around himself and the boy just a bit more snugly, he leaned his head back and looked up at the stars, almost lulled into sleep, himself.

Chuckling, he thought of what an odd sight Elizabeth's eyes would see when she would seek them out after putting away the quartermaster's ledgers... a large coil of rope...a coat with two lanky, booted legs sticking out of the bottom and two heads pillowed against the coil at the top, one dark head wrapped with a red bandana, and the other, smaller one with a mass of brown curls, it's countenance pressed into the captain's jaw, eyes closed and sleeping.

As he stared up at the Milky Way, Jack thought about the North Star, and smiled. For years, that was the only constant thing in his life. Sleepily, he folded his thin arms protectively over Little Will Turner, and was secretly glad that there were many more constant stars in his life, now...

۞


	31. Bad Choices

۞

Their relationship had always been acrimonious. He had joined Sparrow's crew with only one thing in mind all those years ago... to wheedle the bearings for the treasure of Isla de Muerta out of the brash young braggart that had sailed into Tortuga to find a fresh crew. In return for his grievious act of mutiny, and for his insatiable greed, he had become cursed by the Aztec gold that they had all plundered, and frittered away carelessly upon uncontrolled vice. Bad choices, all.

All of the while, young Sparrow had gone mad with heat stroke and had vowed to take back his ship from his mutinous first mate, and take the man's life in one single shot that he had stubbornly saved for ten years. Hector Barbossa had been saved from tumbling out of control through eternity by the mumbling incantations and burning incense of one who was bound in her bones by the Brethren of the Coast... of course, in true pirate fashion, she had a motive for saving him, as they had all had a motive for saving Jack Sparrow from his own personal purgatory.

Even the young whelp, Turner, and the devious Swann woman. She had tangled with Hector, before, yet they were all allied to find this man that Hector Barbossa considered a swaggering, vain, skinny blowhard, beforehand. Their very existence as pirates was in the balance, and they needed Sparrow, badly.

None of them, however, was prepared for the condition that they found him in. Hector could not help but notice the looks of veiled sadness that the young couple would have come over them as they watched Sparrow... decidedly a different man than the one that they had known before. Quite decidedly different. Even in their seeming discord and their attempts at distancing themselves from each other, they were drawn together in watching a man that they had once counted as a friend become undoubtedly unhinged right before their eyes.

Hector, himself, even found himself wondering about the man... loathe Jack Sparrow as he might, he found his contempt for him softening a bit... and he growled at himself for even thinking of such a thing...

۞

The stench was overpowering, even at this distance. They had pulled the longboat up onto the sandy white beach to take in the sight that was before their bewildered eyes, and they all wished that they had chosen to land upon a site that was not downwind. As they walked a few paces toward it, Hector looked over at his companion, and was literally shocked to see the look upon the younger man's dark face. His countenance, in general, was expressionless, but Sparrow's eyes were almost as black as ink. In past personal experiences, Hector had only seen this when Sparrow was engulfed in fury... his deep expressive eyes would turn from sparkling rich brown to glittering black, and this was not ever a good sign. Except upon this day, it was not the same... Sparrow's eyes were dull, sorrowful, shocked. His very pupils had dissolved into deep, unfathomable, bottomless _black_.

Hector let Sparrow lead the way down the beach, not particularly certain that he wanted to follow him toward the decaying hulk. The gulls were flying thickly around the monstrous carcass, picking at it in a macabre way, tearing away bits of rotting flesh as the massive tentacles floated lifelessly in the burning sun, pierced with harpoons and wounded with what seemed to be cannonballs, deeply imbedded. Hector put his hand over his nose and mouth as he finally fell into step, watching the back of the man who was walking in an uncharacteristic straight line. How could he stand the smell, Hector wondered. Yet, the slight figure in front of him kept walking steadily, resolutely through the wet sand.

Hector's mind wandered back into the wraithlike past with this one who was leading the crew down the stretch of beach... they would never be friends; Hector had no friends... in fact, during some points he and Sparrow had downright hated each other.

But oddly, that seemed to have changed some. Jack Sparrow was irritating, annoying, cloying, just plain childish at times, but there was something about him, Hector pondered, that seemed to make him less offensive than he had thought him in the past. Perhaps it was the mysterious gleam that Sparrow's eyes held with since they had rescued him... a gleam that was either completely dark with madness or startling with utter clearheadedness. Perhaps it was Sparrow's purposely keeping his distance from all of those that now sailed with him... as if he were trying to decide if they were all, indeed, real, or if he was truly having yet another hallucination that so easily overtook him.

No matter, Hector thought to himself with a dark frown. Sparrow is just a small piece of what might be the solution to the grand problems that were at hand, and Barbossa knew that he still had some convincing to do in order to make certain that the Pirate Lord of the Caribbean would heed the call... Hector grunted with disgust at the thought of Sparrow having the utter nerve to ignore the song that had been sung... the call for the Court to convene. But then, he remembered, Sparrow was known for his nerve...

He shook himself from his reverie as he looked up at the dead monster that lay before them... Sparrow's walk had slowed... and Hector finally caught up to him. He was suddenly rather surprised at himself at the way that he would view the man who he had previously considered a fool.

As he looked at the younger man next to him, he saw Jack Sparrow clearly for, perhaps, the very first time. Sparrow was staring into the huge, dead, glassy eye of the Kraken. Looking at himself. Looking at his own face. And Hector saw the man's very humanity being reflected back at him from the dead, clouding eye of the monster that had killed him. And as Hector watched this, he realized that he, himself, was also looking at the one who had killed him with a single shot. And with a stupendously shocking clarity, Hector had a realization... he suddenly realized that Jack Sparrow's actions against him had perhaps been strangely justified.

In watching Jack stare into the eye of the Kraken, his hands shaking slightly, Hector Barbossa thought, with unaccustomed sadness, that what had happened to Jack Sparrow had _not_ been justified, in spite of his own bad choices. The cruelty of Davy Jones was unmatched. The damage that had been inflicted upon this man, no matter how annoying he was, was not deserved. Loathe him as he might, Hector would wish this borderline madness upon no one.

And in seeing the raw, ragged emotion that was laid bare in Jack Sparrow's eyes at this very moment, Hector shuddered with an almost undescribable horror, himself... in his thoughts, he set aside the differences that had been between them for this moment in time. The only thought that came to his mind was the same thought that came to it so long ago in the treasure cave of Isla de Muerta...

As Hector Barbossa looked at the shaken man by his side with what he thought might be sympathy...

... he felt... _cold_.

۞


	32. Sister Ships

_**Disclaimer:** Yo ho, all hands, hoist the colours of the Mouse..._

_**Author's note:** As all of my faithful readers know, Pirate Cat's universe finds a way to release Will early from the Dutchman to join the crew of the Pearl... This fic is just something a little bit different from me.. I noticed something as I saw AWE for the 10th time this week... and it is included in this drabble. Pirate Cat_

۞

I am quick in the water, I am of the water... I can fly in the water, and that is how I was christened... I am a ship of souls, the ferrier of those lost at sea.

I was built in Amsterdam in the 1600s... I served many years as a merchant vessel, transporting cargo from here to there. I was respectable. I was beautiful. I served.

I am a fluyt. I am not a galleon, nor a schooner. I am not a cutter nor a frigate. I am a fluyt. You will see no other like me built in any other place but Holland or Scandinavia. No other like me.

I sailed under an inexperienced captain, and we foundered in a storm off of the coast of Scotland. I fell further and further into the freezing depths, far beneath the surface of the stormy waves that I loved so dearly... I felt as though I was being torn from the arms of my lover, the waves. I wept for my crew... my crew that perished in the frigid waters of the Orkney Islands. I fell further and further...

... into the hands of Calypso. Into the hands of her lover, a fine and strong Scotsman named Davy Jones. He was a spirit... a pirate captain in limbo between worlds, who loved Calypso so deeply, as I loved the waves...loved her too deeply... lovers...

For a decade, a short time in the lifetime of a ship, Captain Jones and I were honored to ferry the souls of those lost at sea. They were glad to see us, to be ferried by a beauty such as myself, to be guided by Captain Jones, a handsome rugged man even in death. He loved Calypso so much...

She was unfaithful in those ten years... she was not there when Captain Jones sought her out after those 10 years passed... she was not constant... she was changing ... she was the sea...

The heart of my captain was crushed... as was his humanity... as was his soul... as was his desire to perform the duty that he was assigned. He cut out his heart and cursed himself. He cursed me. He betrayed Calypso and she was bound in her bones, as my own bones were laid bare. Despair... I was feared, not loved... I was shamed. Like my captain, I became a monster. What became of my beauty?

The Grim Reaper was carved into the fine wood of my quarterdeck. Expressions of anger and rage overtook my triple guns. My sails were now of dark seaweed... my crew became a part of me... part of the crew, part of the ship... I cry bitter tears of saltwater...

Until now... what is happening? I have broken the surface in a Maelstrom. Captain Jones is dead! I have a new captain! A beautiful, handsome man, young and vital...

I have a new captain! I have pristine white sails! The barnacles are falling from me like they are falling from the bodies of my crew! I feel alive! I am alive!

And as I turn to face my new sister ship, The Black Pearl, the wind fills my white sails, and my lover, the waves...greeting me like open arms!

The carved Grim Reaper has fallen from the wood of my quarterdeck, replaced by a carving of the Rising Sun! Warm, proud and good. Like my new captain...warm, proud and good!

I feel that he will not be with me for long. My sister ship, The Black Pearl, whispers to me that her dark pirate captain, also beautiful and handsome, already has a plan for my new captain. He will find a way to free my new captain from me... my new captain will return me to my purpose, but will not stay... as it was intended...

I hope that it takes time... I hope... but I finally have hope where there was none...my white sails snap in the wind like whips...

But now... I have a job to do... I finally am charged with a mission for good... a mission for good! My sister ship beckons with her proud black sails! I answer her with my bow turning toward her... if we both could smile...My triple guns are no longer angry and full of rage... they are proud and fierce... proud and fierce...

We have an enemy ship...The Endeavor, I say to my dark sister ship, is _ours_... it is for the common good... The Endeavor... is _ours._

۞


	33. The Sacking of Nassau Port

_**Disclaimer: **__Like always, they belong to the Mouse, but I like t' play wif them!_

_**Author's note: **__And as always, in my lovely Pirates universe, William is free from his curse, with Jack's help, and he and his family are crew aboard the Pearl. Pirate Cat_

_This one shot is the answer to a challenge from purplediamond7. Pirate Cat tips her tricorn and raises her mug of rum in salute! _

۞

The Black Pearl was anchored in a hidden cove in the Bahama Islands, seeking shelter from the skirting winds and rain of a hurricane that had passed them to the south. The seas had been heavy, as the captain and crew had fully expected, and they sought a safe place to ride the storm out for a day. The cove that they were hiding in was safe, and the small island was uninhabited, so they tied everything down securely and tried to stay dry.

The weather was naturally wet, so most of the crew had taken the longboat and had refuge in a small cave on the beach that Captain Jack Sparrow had lived in for a short time, during his years hunting for his ship, after he was mutineed upon by Hector Barbossa, and marooned. He spent the better part of a decade tracking the ship around the globe, always a step behind. He remembered this place of shelter, and knew that there was plenty of fresh water from a nearby spring, and coconuts for the taking, so the mighty Black Pearl and her crew were comfortable for a night or two.

William Turner the Second, Jack's trusted first mate and best friend, and his wife, Elizabeth Swann Turner, chose to stay aboard the Pearl with Jack, along with their baby, Little Will, who was tucked into a basket next to his mother, sleeping peacefully upon this dreary afternoon. The ship was rocking to and fro very pleasantly, as the worst of the storm had passed, and it was at this time that William's father and Jack's old friend, Bootstrap Bill Turner had taken a few days off from his duties aboard the Flying Dutchman to visit his little family and make sure that they were riding out the hurricane in safety. With Jack's second sense about stormy weather, he was reassured to find that they had put in with plenty of time to spare.

The gray skies rained above them as they all sat upon the main deck of the Pearl, a small section of dark sail strung above them all as a tarp. It was too warm and humid to sit inside of the cabins, and definitely too warm to go below, so they were sitting cozily under their temporary tent, sipping rum and swapping tales.

"So, Jack..." Elizabeth turned to the dark, handsome captain as he wrung out his dreadlocks of rain. He wrinkled up his face peevishly, then latently looked at Elizabeth and said, "Hmm? Wot?"

Elizabeth pulled her chair up closely and took her small, watered down mug of rum in her hands and said, eagerly, "You never told us about how you were able to sack Nassau Port without firing a single shot! I have read about it and heard parts of the story, but never from you! I want to hear how you did it!"

William and Bill glanced at each other and winked... it was always a bet that Jack Sparrow would never tell any story about himself without adding a great deal of flourish, since he was the one that was mostly responsible for spreading his own legend. Most of the stories told about him were true to an extent, but never completely true, since he was the one who started them in the first place. He was known for more bravery (which was true, unless one witnessed him screaming in terror), more cleverness (which was also true unless one was called upon to figure out how to get him out of trouble), and more lovers (which was in doubt, somewhat, since there were more stories about the captain and more women than he could have possibly known, even if he were a hundred years old).

"Ah!" Jack grinned, as he vainly inspected his fingernails and bobbed his head from one side to the other, making the beads in his long, black hair jingle. "I should like t' tell you that one, Izzy, after I nip off t' th' rum cellar an' replenish our supply of that which is th' nectar o' th' gods. I shall return directly!" And with that, he took his ring of keys and went below, humming to himself and muttering oaths as he slipped on one loose step, and noisily caught himself on a rope below the main deck. They all grinned.

Bill had lit his pipe, and was gazing at William and Elizabeth with sparkling blue eyes through the tobacco smoke, as William leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs out, folding his hands behind his head, the tails of his light blue bandana trailing down behind him. "Well, Father, are you going to start the story and see how Jack finishes it?" he grinned. Elizabeth leaned in closer to William as the rain fell harder, and Bill chuckled, and began, "Well, it is one of th' adventures that Jack is best known for, but it didn't exactly go as planned!"

"This took place when Jack was a very young man, th' first year that he was a pirate captain after the Black Pearl had been reborn from the depths. I was his quartermaster, an' Hector Barbossa was first mate. We had been watching Nassau Port for several days, as there was a rather large treasury there for th' entire Bahamian region, an' there was also several fine homes there, occupied by th' rich owners o' th' sugar plantations."

Bill puffed upon his pipe, keeping a watchful ear open for Jack's return, and an amused grin upon his face. "Now, you both know how Jack feels about slavery, so it was only natural tha' he should enjoy th' thought o' hittin' th' plantation owners where it hurt... th' treasury! There was also a ship that had a cargo full o' fine Caribbean rum waitin' t' take out t' Port Royal an' points beyond. It was ripe for th' pickin'."

As the young Turners leaned in to hear more, Bill continued, "Bear in mind tha' Jack was fairly new t' piratin', even though he was not always on th' up an' up as a privateer, if ye catch me drift," Bill winked. "He an' Hector scoped out Nassau Port, as it was not as large as, say, Port Royal, but was more sizable than Tortuga City. Jack had a plan t' put crewmen in four corners o' the town, an' then, from far out in the bay, a signal lamp would be waved from the highest yardarm o' th' Pearl, at which time fires would be started simaltaneously t' draw th' townfolk out o' the main part o' th' town. Arson... t' create confusion an' leave a part of th' town where th' treasury was located relatively unguarded!"

As there was still no sign of Jack, Bill leaned in conspiratorially, and went on with his story, his eyes intensely watching his captive audience of two. "Well, all went well, until Hector, Jack an' meself took it upon ourselves t' set a fire t' the ship that carried the cargo of rum, after we had loaded it all into longboats an' headed them out t' th' Pearl with Masters Pintel, Ragetti an' Twigg! They thought it would be a fine distraction an' would allow our crewmen t' sneak round back o' th' docks an' leave out once they had sacked th' treasury... little did we know..." Bill paused, as William and Elizabeth looked at him with widening eyes, "... little did we know that the town was planning a big jubilee celebration, an' th' _incoming_ cargo from the ship included Chinese fireworks!"

William's and Elizabeth's mouths dropped open! They had unknowingly set fire to a ship full of fireworks...no wonder it didn't go as planned!

۞

Jack stood over them, bottles of rum in hand and a dark frown upon his face. "I've a good mind t' not be sharin'," he said, pouting. "Which version o' th' story are ye tellin', Bill?" Jack looked very much like a disappointed child for not getting to tell his own version of one of his most famous legends.

Bill leaned back in his chair, as William bit his cheeks so hard that they nearly bled, trying not to laugh, and Elizabeth had her hand over her mouth and tears of mirth welling up in her eyes. Bill grinned and said, "I am tellin' th' true version!'

Jack rolled his eyes and smiled in resignation, sitting down and popping a cork, "Carry on, then."

Bill took a sip of his rum, and straightened his cap upon his head for better effect. He smiled and said, "As I was sayin'... th' three o' us thought it would be a fine diversion t' set fire t' the ship that we had just helped ourselves to, as general mayhem was beginnin' t' break out all over town. Flames were shootin' up into th' sky from all over, as our crew were already startin' t' run back through town with seabags full o' loot from the treasury, the town's only sheriff in hot pursuit! Th' townfolk weren't payin' a bit of attention t' us, as they were tryin' t' keep the whole town from burnin' t' th' ground! There were people runnin' everywhere, along with chickens, pigs, goats, ducks, an' assorted pirates!"

Jack was even leaning in with wide, excited eyes, by now, enjoying Bill's yarn and seeming to forget that he had been there. "Wot happened next?" All of the Turners looked at him for a moment, trying valiantly not to laugh.

"Well, just as all of our crew was scramblin' t' th' docks, all bloody hell broke loose! Suddenly, rockets of every color an' size ye can imagine began t' shoot outta the cargo hold o' that ship, an' bombs started t' go off all around us! Her sails were set afire right away, an' it was like it was rainin' sparks, I swear! It was like every cannon ever forged was goin' off in our ears! God's spoons, pirates were scatterin' all over hell, with sea bags an' other swag flyin' through th' air like lead shot!'

He paused to take a puff of his pipe, as his three listeners held their breath. Jack fluttered his hands and cried out, "Wot happened???"

Bill began to laugh out loud, as he chuckled, "Jack, you were there!" He began to laugh harder, as he slapped his knee and said to a grinning William and Elizabeth, "You two haven't seen anything until you see Jack Sparrow being chased by Chinese rockets! He had a torch in his hand... ye've both taken in th' spectacle of Jack runnin'...and he was scamperin' for all he was worth down th' docks, screaming his bloody head off! One rocket damn near did take 'is head off... instead, it took 'is hat an' bandana, an' set some of 'is dreadlocks t' smokin'!" Jack looked at Bill, mustache twitching indignantly, as William and Elizabeth roared with laughter, tears streaming down their faces.

"Alright, then, Bill, let us not forget wot happened t' you!" the captain retorted, as he took a large swig of rum and joined into the merriment. With sparkling brown eyes, he looked at a gasping young couple, and said, waving his hands, "Picture Bootstrap Bill Turner, laughing at his bedeviled captain, as a rocket flared off HIS way! Zoom!" Jack's hand swooped in front of them, "... he damn near ended up in Venezuela, but instead he leaped backwards an' went, arse first, right into Nassau Bay!"

Bill laughed out loud at his own memory of the event, as Jack also began to laugh, shoulders shaking with giggles, and golden teeth gleaming. Bill continued, "But then there was poor Hector!"

At that, Jack threw his head back and laughed like none of them had ever seen him laugh before, a deep, throaty, husky laugh. "Oh _bugger! _Hector's bloody, scraggly beard caught on fire! Damn near took the brim o' his hat, too! Oh, bloody hell! He was standin' there, beatin' 'imself in th' face wif his hands!" Elizabeth started to snort in a most unladylike fashion, her hands covering her eyes and her sides aching.

As they all gasped for air and wiped their eyes, Bill slapped Jack on his back and said, "By God, we were able t' come away with a shipment o' rum, a good amount of swag an' most o' the Bahamian treasury, but half o' th' crew never came back. They were afraid o' what Jack would think of next! I damn near took with pneumonia from fallin' int' th' bay, an' we never found Jack's bandana! His dreadlocks smelled o' burned hair fer a week!"

"An' it took Hector two months t' heal up 'is chin, an' grown another scraggly beard! It never did grow back th' same!" Jack grinned. "But th' best part o' th' story was true! We sacked Nassau Port wifout firin' a single shot, alright... from our _guns_!"

William began to laugh again, as he proclaimed, his own mug held high, "Here's to Captain Jack Sparrow! He sacked Nassau Port without firing a single shot... he truly put himself upon the map with that adventure... then nearly blew himself _off _of it!"

And as thunder rumbled and the rain fell harder, four mugs slammed together, with a shout of, "Take what you can!"

And Captain Jack Sparrow shouted with wild glee, "Give nothin' back! I _love_ fireworks! _Drinks all around_!"

۞


	34. From a Distance

_**Disclaimer: **Not mine, but that never stops pirates, savvy? _

_**Author's note: **As always, anyone who reads my fics knows that William has been released from being captain of the Dutchman, with certain conditions, and he and Elizabeth sail with Jack aboard the Pearl. Pirate Cat_

۞

They were in a small, backstreet taverna of a village off of the coast of Greece. It was a tiny town, pirate-friendly, and the sparkling Aegean sea was breathtaking against the startling blue of the sky. The whitewashed stone and clay buildings hung over the bay like as if they simply had evolved over the centuries as part of the rocks, bright and friendly, with blue trimmed roofs and beautiful flowers draping themselves down the cliffs, blowing ever so softly in the breezes.

Captain Jack Sparrow did not wish to be here, no matter how beautiful or pirate-friendly it was... he sat sullenly at a corner table, his back to the wall, his hands twiddling a mug around in circles and stealing furtive glances to his companions upon either side of him. His first mate, William Turner, and his quartermaster second mate, Elizabeth Swann Turner, had themselves firmly planted in chairs to keep Jack from slipping out the door, and hiding among the many alleys and narrow backstreets in order to avoid the coming meeting.

"... it is for your own good, Jack," Elizabeth started, turning and nudging Jack roughly to stop his nervous fidgeting. "... it was requested, and it is about time that you faced him..." Jack growled at her, his lower lip beginning to push out in a childish pout. William turned and leaned into his captain's face, frowning, his brown eyes narrowing, "We didn't come all of this way and ask the protection of Capitaine Chevalle in his Mediterranean waters just to have you hide in a Greek alleyway, Jack..."

William's eyes softened a bit, as Jack turned his head to avoid looking at anyone... Elizabeth reached an arm around and patted Jack's shoulder, as William continued, sympathetically,"... we both know it's very hard for you, mate... but _he_ asked to see _you_... it will be alright..."

Just then, an imposing figure blocked the light from the doorway, with a natural swaying to his walk, a large brimmed hat upon his dreadlocked head. The silver trinkets in his hair clinked against each other... not in a pleasant, jingling fashion like Jack's would, but almost brittle... like broken pieces of sharp glass. The young Turners looked up, then stood up in respect... as Jack remained seated, not looking up in order that the others might see the flicker of fear in his dark eyes.

The shadow walked across the quiet little taverna, then stopped directly in front of them. Nodding to the taverna keeper, he indicated that a bottle of wine and mugs should be brought to the table. Dragging a chair over, the figure silently nodded in greeting to William and Elizabeth, then motioned for all to sit down. The Turners sat even closer to their best friend, who still refused to look up.

As the figure leaned into the sunlight that was streaming in from the open window next to them, the creased face that took on a look of the craggy cliffs, outside, came to light, with glittering black eyes and a dark frown. In a voice like low Irish thunder, he spoke.

"... look at me, boy... " and as Jack Sparrow's eyes turned upward to take in the most frightening man that he had ever known, the man's face softened ever so slightly, and his voice said, "... why didn't ye tell me th' things that I had t' hear from others? I know that I have never been a father to ye... but why didn't ye tell me at Shipwreck City?"

Jack finally found his voice, with a nudge from William, and said, almost carelessly, "Tell ye wot?"

As he finally poured wine for all of those present at the table, Captain Teague let the silence creep over them for a moment, then said, softly, "That ye'd been in th' Locker..."

Jack's eyes lowered again. The memories of the dreaded Locker suddenly broke loose behind those dark eyes like a flood... and he felt his small amount of self assuredness start to melt away like butter... _oh god, not in front of Teague!!! Nonono. He can't know how bad it was... control... control... _Elizabeth slipped her hand around Jack's waist in a way the Teague could not see, to help him keep control of his fleeting, flickering sanity. William's eyes quietly stared into Teague's as he saw an almost fatherly light start to burn a bit in the black, inky depths.

"... I know that I abandoned ye, Jack... but it was for th' best... I loved yer mother, but ye have t' know..." Teague was obviously not accustomed to speaking at all, let alone to crack open his heart to the son that he had barely known. It was time that the boy knew.

Jack swallowed hard and struggled to look up at his father. He was finally able to put together another string of words that resembled a sentence, "... so wot is it tha' ye seem t' be wanting t' tell me, then?" His control was returning with his friends' strength, and his face took on a slight look of curiosity. Teague nodded slightly to the mug in Jack's slender hands, and dutifully, his son took a drink of the warm Greek wine...

"... Jack... son..." Teague paused, again. He removed his hat and laid it on the table next to him. This was unprecedented... almost a sign of respect to the fact that his son and his young best friends had traveled all the way from the Caribbean to meet with him. "... I owe it t' ye... in case anything should happen t' either one of us, again, I owe it t' ye...

He stared directly into Jack's eyes and finally started in, "... ye're just like yer mother... she was a free spirit. Beautiful... wild... " his eyes took on a faraway look as he repeated, "... ye're just like her... an' I loved her with all o' me heart...

Jack's eyes widened like dark full moons. He had never expected that. Teague continued.

"... she was like th' night sky... sparkling an' dark... she was only 16 when we met... I was 22... I had me own ship by then, an' she ran away from her tribe t' travel with me... we were both Irish, o' course, but she was th' most gorgeous gypsy lass I had ever seen in me life... I was completely besotted with her."

"I know wot she looked like..." Jack's eyes had narrowed, by now, and there was bitterness creeping into his soft voice. William nudged him, softly.

Teague had expected this. "... ye're wonderin' why I left th' two o' ye in Ireland after ye were born." Jack greeted this with angry silence.

Teague looked at all of them, then finally said the words that he had never spoken to anyone in over 30 years. "I loved Magdalena Sparrow... but she didn't love me."

۞

As this revelation sank in with Jack Sparrow, his two young friends on either side of him studied him with veiled concern. Jack's eyes went from astonishment, to vagueness, and back to astonishment. He looked back up at his father, who was staring at him with those burning eyes, his face not changing expression. He spoke again. "... but I thought her tribe left her behind because..."

Teague stopped him. "Jack, do ye ever remember Maggie sayin' anythin' at all about lovin' me? I sent swag to th' two o' ye now an' then, but she made it plain when I left th' two o' ye in Connemara tha' she didn't want me around ye ... I offered t' marry her, but she refused... I knew ye'd have enough t' bear with bein' a bastard child... th' spawn of a gypsy an' a pirate captain, an' I wanted t' be there for ye, but she didn't love me... Maggie was young an' brash enough t' not marry, even if it was t' give you my name...she wanted her own freedom an' no part o' me... she was stubborn an' wild an' ever so beautiful... "

Jack finally had heard enough and his hands flew up angrily, "... where were ye _after_ she died, eh? Where were ye when _I_ needed ye?" William and Elizabeth both moved in even closer to him as he took a deep breath, and stopped. Regaining his composure, he asked, plaintively, "Why didn't ye give me a chance even after she was gone... t' be your son?"

As he met his father's sad gaze, Jack's own face began to fill with unaccustomed emotion, his hands finally gripping the mug of wine in front of him, a tremble starting to make it's way from his very boots.

Teague answered, quietly, "... I didn't let ye get close t' me for th' same reason tha' ye never let anyone close t' _you_, Jackie... I loved freedom, just like you an' yer mother... an' I feared th' rejection from my own son, simply because he was just like his mother, an' I couldn't bear to have my heart broken like that, twice... Just like you, I can be selfish with my love... but it doesn't mean tha' I didn't _want_ ye... it doesn't mean tha' I didn't _love_ ye... I just thought it was better th' way tha' it was, an' I stayed away from ye... an' now I am admittin' to ye tha' maybe I was _wrong_."

A stunned silence fell over the group like a dark cloud. Never in his lifetime had Jack Sparrow ever expected to hear any of this. He could barely wrap his mind around the thought that perhaps... just perhaps... his father was admitting that he loved him? And _had_ wanted him? And that his mother had not been a perfect saint, after all... he, himself, had been the final product of a fleeting affair that was never meant to last.. his mother did not love his father, yet his father did love them... and that they were all imperfectly human... his mother had struggled in poverty, but because of her own pride, not his father's callousness.

As he finally tore his staring eyes away from Teague for a moment, he was finally conscious of William and Elizabeth's arms around his shoulders... and conscious of the hot tears that were streaming down his dark face, right in front of this man that he had been afraid of all of his life. Suddenly it was as though his own tears were washing away years of bitterness... he felt as if his deepest soul had been emptied and was being filled up, again. He took a long, deep drink of the red wine, and it tasted sweet.

Captain Teague drank the last of his own wine, stood up, and finally said, "There ye go. I've said it. Ye know th' truth, now, Jackie."

He slowly moved to place his hat back upon his own bandana'd head, and turned to leave. He paused, and took another long look at the trio in front of him... he was glad that his son had the young Turners to look after him, as it was plain, he noted with a painful turn of his heart in his chest, that Jackie was just like his mother in that he was not all there, at all... wild, unhinged gypsy boy... and he was worse since the Locker.

Respectfully, the younger trio stood as Captain Teague, again, turned to the doorway of the taverna, to head for The Star of Madagascar... the very ship upon which his son had been born all of those years ago. He paused at the door, almost hopefully, and heard a pair of booted feet finally uproot themselves from the floor that they had seemingly attached themselves to. He heard a quiet, slurred voice with the hint of an Irish brogue like his own, say, "I should like t' think that perhaps we might see each other again... " a pause, "... I know where t' find ye, in Madagascar... if tha's alright... we need t' parlay..."

"I'd like that," was the reply. "Come an' see yer old man." Teague turned to his slight, slender son. His son, who was a hero among pirates... the best pirate who had ever lived... and Teague did something that he had never done in Jack's life. He put his arms around his son, and embraced him, hard... Jack hesitantly reached out, and then also embraced his father back... hard... thirty years' worth.

And like a dark, brooding ghost, Teague was out the door, and gone.

As William and Elizabeth joined their captain at the doorway of the small Greek taverna, they pressed another mug of wine into his quieted hands, and they all watched Teague's back as he made his way down to the bay below them... and they all raised their mugs to their lips in a very small toast to the fact that Jack Sparrow had agreed to finally meet with his father... and had accepted his father's words to ponder...

...and had been given the opportune moment to know the complete truth from his father's own heart, and to know that he had been loved, from a distance, all along.

۞


	35. A Shifting of Priorities

_**Disclaimer: **I hate to tell Mickey this, but someday I will "take what I can... an' give nothin' back!"_

_**Author's note: **Same thing. Anyone who reads my stories knows that William has been released from the Dutchman, with conditions and with Jack's help, and he and his little family serve the Mighty Black Pearl and her incredible captain.. and I don't mean Hector Barbossa, although I loves him, too. Pirate Cat_

_**Author's Second Note**: This was inspired by two comments, one by our lovely Johnny Depp that Jack Sparrow can be rather sweetly obsessive, and one by Terry and Ted, the writers of the movies, that Jack tended to be a bit vain... he tries to stay cleaner than other pirates... I thought this was funny, and can just picture Jack's wrinkled up nose. I also noticed, during the Pirates trilogy, that William and Elizabeth seemed to find their inner, grubby selves, and enjoying it. Thus, this one shot! Pirate Cat_

_**Thank are in order: **Thanks to JeanieBeanie33 for some constructive criticism! I reshuffled it, mate! PC_

۞

Elizabeth studied the pair before her as she looked up from mending some rigging. She had been sitting upon the main deck for the better part of the morning, humming to herself as Little Will napped in his basket, nestled into a folded blanket upon the smooth deck of the Black Pearl. In needing to stretch a bit, she looked up to the quarterdeck and smiled as she watched William and Jack pour over a chart... William leaned in close to say something into Jack's ear, so as not to let Mr. Cotton in upon his comment, and Jack's face broke into a wide grin, as he gave William a sidelong glance through owl-like kohl lined eyes. She sighed with amusement. She never know what the pair found to laugh about so much between the two of them, but amusedly, she shook her head and smiled, also.

Strange, she mused to herself, that the pair before her that she loved so dearly had changed so much in the last two years, yet remained the same. She let her mind wander, as the sea breezes caressed her own tanned face... admiringly, she gazed at her handsome husband... the former captain of the ghostly Flying Dutchman, and now the proud first mate of the ship that was now their home.

William Turner the Second... a shy boy when they first met at the age of twelve... a shy boy who grew into a shy young man, a blacksmith's apprentice who was steadfast and true, loyal and brave. In those ways, he had not changed. But when their wedding was stopped by Lord Cutler Beckett, a new man emerged. A man who found out that piracy was sometimes the only way to save ones that you loved... including the man standing next to him, who had taught the ways of piracy to both William and Elizabeth almost too well.

Before, William had always walked the straight and narrow, almost afraid to show the world that he even had a sense of humor. He was a blacksmith, which was a dirty and sweaty profession, but he prided himself in being starched and clean, hair always severely pulled back, and beard trimmed to perfection. A new man emerged, indeed.

He was essentially the same, now, but meeting Jack Sparrow and time spent aboard the Flying Dutchman had made him glory in toiling toward other ends. He seemed to welcome getting grimy, if it meant that he could pull a net from the sea with his own, living warm hands... a net with a fresh catch for everyone's evening meal, and then help to clean the catch, flinging guts and fish heads all over the deck ... as the captain of the ship watched, his own dark face screwed up in distaste. Jack hated cleaning fish. He'd had enough of that when he was without a ship... he would have to catch fish, sometimes, to have something to quell the hunger that he'd felt keenly whilst he had no place to call his home.

Like Jack, William seemed to revel in joining the crew in drinking, these days, even if he was quieter by nature, it did not mean that he did not enjoy the bawdy storytelling... Elizabeth blushed a bit, thinking of when William would have been mortified to hear some of the songs that were sung aboard a pirate vessel, and now he laughed and sang right along with Jack the rest of their pirate family... he definitely was no longer the stick- in-the-mud that Jack and Joshamee Gibbs had observed so astutely in Tortuga City when they were first putting together a crew.

William was no longer constantly starched and clean, nor had he any desire to be so... his sash was frayed at the ends, his curly dark hair was luxuriously long, and blowing all about his tanned face most times, with a light blue bandana wrapped about his head, golden earring sparkling in the sun. His eyes shone with a pride that had not been there when he was younger... intense pride in himself, pride in his family, pride in his survival with the help of his slight, dark captain. William's own attitude was no longer starched and clean... he was truly a pirate... and enjoying it. William liked being first mate... he oversaw the crew and ship so that her captain could attend to the duties that kept them all together...Elizabeth pursed her lips in thought, as she thought of a time when she thought that Jack Sparrow was the most disgusting, disorganized rum-soaked derelict that she had ever met. He, too, was full of surprises.

Jack Sparrow had been grimy, frayed, weathered and beaten down, yet he had sailed into Port Royal like he was royalty, himself. Elizabeth looked back at a time when she only knew of the captain by his legend... she had not taken into consideration until much later that he was a man who was homeless, for the better part of ten years, searching for his ship.. homeless, and simply doing his best to survive.

He had slept under bridges, in barns, in alleyways and had gone for days without decent food. He'd rarely had an opportunity to bathe properly, and she knew that there were nights that he spent in a willing wench's room, many times simply to get out of hurricane winds and rain. Well, of course, the wench _was_ willing, she giggled, but he mostly wanted to get out of the weather, many times. She had no doubt, as she looked back, that he had pilfered from these women, whether it be money, a jewelry bauble, toiletry items, or simply their honor. She grinned at Jack Sparrow's charming audacity... an audacity that had eventually saved William from his curse and had reunited them all.

Her thoughts turned a bit guilty, as she remembered a time when she had made a comment about his personal hygiene, simply because he had pushed her too far with his taunts and challenges, and he had made her angry... he had said it was a trifle, but she found out later that it had hurt his feelings. Surprisingly, Jack Sparrow could be just as clean as anyone, and rather prefered it that way. In his taunts and challenges to her, she realized, he was only pushing her to reach beyond the constraints that she and William had both placed upon themselves... choking, confining... and she had answered him with childish insults.

Her face clouded, even as she observed the two handsome men before her. Jack's stay in The Locker had changed him forever. He had always disliked sand... he now was almost obsessively abhorrant of it. The Locker was unbearable heat, bright everpresent sun... no darkness, only blinding light, burning heat... and sand. So much sand. She recalled the last time that they went ashore, and she had watched Jack tiptoe across a beach, almost daintily, as though he thought the sand would seep right through his soles, and grind into his very toes. He hated it.

He had become obsessive about washing his face... his hands... his black dreadlocked hair, properly bathing all over when he could... washing his garments, hanging his linen shirts in the sun to bleach. Anything to keep from feeling like there was sand... she was constantly observing him brushing out his long dark hair, muttering to himself as he did so, and retying the various braids with red string.

She and William would stop him, at times, his hands had become red and raw from obsessive washing... to get rid of the sand, Jack would say... she remembered when they had discovered the washbasin and cakes of milled soaps in his cabin, along with a bottle of fine French hair oil with essence of coconut... she had thought him vain, then, but had since found out that Jack did not enjoy dirt... it was simply a fact of life at times, being dirty, whether one liked it or not.

Just as William seemed to welcome getting grimy and frayed - a firm departure from his former life in Port Royal - Jack seemed to go the opposite direction... or perhaps he had always been that way, but had hidden it so as not to be made fun of... who had ever really heard of a clean pirate? She even thought about his habit of tucking a napkin under his chin at mealtime, and the neatness of his cabin... who would have guessed?

Looking down at her own hands, tanned and roughened by life aboard a ship, Elizabeth tilted her head and thought it over. Odd, she thought, that she would welcome roughened hands and tanned skin... sun bleached hair and lack of bathing facilities, save for the washbasin that she and William kept under their bunk in their cabin, like Jack had. She had been rid of corsets and the life that she had associated with it, forever... she shrugged off getting a bit dirty at times... a fine thing for the daughter of the governor of Jamaica, until Lord Cutler Beckett had arrived... he had gotten his reward at the hands of the father of her son, and their best friend, she thought.

She looked down at Little Will, who was now awake and waving his small fists in the air, stretching and feeling the sea wind in his own curly hair. Smiling, Elizabeth reached down and took her baby into her arms, and rocked him, contentedly. Looking back up at her two beloved men upon the quarterdeck, she filled with pride. They had all changed, but perhaps it was an evolution of pride, a shifting of priorities. As William and Jack came down to the main deck to pull up chairs to join her, she shook her head... unlike Cutler Beckett, she had recieved rewards of another kind, she decided.

Who would think, she pondered to herself, that William Turner the Second would enjoy hacking the heads off of the fish for the evening meal, and that Jack Sparrow would end up giving Elizabeth Swann Turner a brand new cake of fine milled soap that had been in his own possession, so that she could be as clean as he was.. who would think...

She looked at the pair before her and bit her lip with amusement... and William and Jack looked at each other and wondered why... a shifting of priorities, was her only answer.

۞


	36. Trading Insults

_**Disclaimer: **No matter how hard I try to convince 'em, Disney won't let me keep 'em fer meself._

_**Author's note: **Same as always. In my fics, William has won his freedom from the Flying Dutchman with certain conditions, and he and Elizabeth are crewmembers on the mighty Black Pearl. Her lovely, eccentric captain is quite pleased about this. Pirate Cat_

۞

"OI! Dammit, Izzy, be careful!"

"Oh, Jack, it isn't that bad! I don't think that it will even need stitches... quit moving! It will start to bleed, again!" Elizabeth Swann Turner admonished Captain Jack Sparrow hotly, as she pressed down hard upon his bleeding back. Jack's first mate and Elizabeth's handsome young husband, William Turner, looked on guiltily as he stood over the scene... Jack was lying, shirtless, upon his stomach on his bunk, while Elizabeth lifted the towel from the wound that William, himself, was responsible for. Jack buried his dark face in a pillow, as Elizabeth pressed down harder.

"OW!" the captain squirmed away from her, as Elizabeth finally took a towel and snapped it across Jack's bare shoulders. His dark head popped up from the pillow, and he glared at her darkly, as William took the bottle of rum that was being used to cleanse the wound and shoved it into Jack's hand. "Jack, I'm sorry, mate ..."

As Elizabeth finally was a bit more gentle in placing pressure upon the bleeding, the captain sighed, and mumbled, "S'alright, whelp. We both needed t' brush up on our swordsmanship, an' I forgot tha' you no longer follow th' rules of engagement, either... at least it's jus' a flesh wound... isn't it?" Jack's fearful eyes peered around at Elizabeth, and she smiled at him a little.

"Yes, Jack... it will need to be bandaged, but will hardly leave a scar." She finally lifted the towel from the narrow, oozing cut and affectionately patted Jack's bare back, "You'll live!"

As he finally sat up gingerly and let Elizabeth dress the wound with gauze, Jack cautiously asked, "It didn't ruin me dragon tattoo, did it?" He took a pull from the rum bottle and winced, then, grinning, handed the bottle over to a guilty William as a peace offering.

Elizabeth smiled and replied, "No, your dragon tattoo is just fine... so, Jack..." she continued, airily, "...you still haven't told us why you got this tattoo after you insulted Sao Feng the first time you visited Singapore..."

As William leaned in, his elbows upon his knees, he added, "When we were seeking out the charts to find you, once Sao Feng found out it was you that we were rescuing from The Locker, he got rather... agitated." William was always one for understatement, and 'agitated' seemed like a good description for 'furious'... although Sao Feng's two handmaidens mysteriously had giggled at the mention of Jack's name. "His two ladyfriends seemed amused..."

"Ahhh, Shan and Jing..." Jack said, sadly, "... nice girls, those two... too bad wot Mercer an' his little band of trained monkeys did t' them. They were only young things when I first visited Singapore... a lot of fun." Elizabeth looked at the captain with wide eyes as he said this, and he drew himself up defensively and said, "We only shared conversation, nothin' else, Izzy. They were TOO young fer me... so get yer mind outta th' bath house, love..."

Elizabeth tied off the gauze around Jack's middle with a tug, as he grunted and frowned at her, goodnaturedly. Mischievously winking at her smiling husband, she traced her fingertip over the dragon tattoo across Jack's lower back, knowing that he was ticklish, there. Jack jumped, and finally moved away from her, turning to William and saying, "Get her away from me, William!"

As Elizabeth sat in William's lap and they curled their arms around each other lovingly, Jack continued, his long fingers punctuating his story while curled around the neck of the rum bottle.

"Now, Shan an' Jing were jus' young things... sisters, th' two of 'em... an' their family was very poor, so they were sold to Sao Feng as handmaidens. Aye, you two, ye both know wot that entails, so I won't go into it..." Jack shook his head, "... but they were good wif it, as Sao Feng always had plenty of food around fer their consumption, an' he didn't expect 'em t' entertain anyone but him... he didn't share, as it were, an' tha's fine. Now... before I go any further... wot was yer true opinion o' Sao Feng?" Jack's head tilted to one side, and he regarded his two best friends with a bit of caution.

William looked at Elizabeth, and spoke first. "He was forceful, and aye, he was powerful, but he did not strike me as being very smart, Jack. He really thought that he would get the Black Pearl in exchange for you."

"So did you, mate..." Jack countered, with a slight smile. William looked guilty, again, as Jack reached over and tapped a finger upon William's arm, lightly. "Done wif, mate. I expected all of it, really. Things were fallin' apart fer th' pirate world. We fixed that one, you 'n' me, savvy?" He grinned triumphantly, as William could not help but grin back at his friend.

They both turned and looked at Elizabeth, who'd had the most dealing with Sao Feng at World's End. Her eyes became veiled with anger and she sneered, ever so slightly. "He was a brute. He was only interested in me because he thought that I was Calypso. I had no remorse when he died."

"Well, mates, I thought the same things. Sao Feng was powerful, aye, but he was an ignorant lummox." Jack belched slightly, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand... the perfect picture of elegance himself, the Turners both thought, affectionately of their friend. The Captain went on.

"I was offered th' hospitality of Sao Feng only because I was a fellow Pirate Lord, no other reason. I was stayin' there for a few nights whilst I was passin' through... Hector Barbossa an' my Pearl were not far ahead o' me, an' I needed t' come up wif a boat t' follow them t' mainland o' China, so I was hopin' t' obtain th' same from Sao Feng, but he was bein' stubborn."

Jack rolled his eyes in mock frustration as he recalled the experience, and the Turners chuckled. "He insisted tha' I stay on an' listen t' all o' his tales of glory, an' admire 'is cuisine... " Jack wrinkled up his nose... he disliked Chinese food..." ... an' he made me listen t' some damned awful musicians..." He twiddled his fingers as if he were playing a guitar. "... they were no match fer ol' Edward Jonathan Teague as a musician..." he muttered, paying grudging homage to his father.

"Well, I finally had jus' about enough o' all o' this, an' was preparin' t' take me leave, wif or wifout a boat, an' I was visitin' wif Shan an' Jing one evenin', tellin' of me own exploits as Captain Jack Sparrow, an' I am sure that they were enjoyin' it, immensely!" Jack grinned his most cheeky grin, spreading his arms out wide as he spun his yarn, with William and Elizabeth watching him in amusement. "They even gave me my own name in Cantonese!" As he drew himself up proudly, he tried valiantly to pronounce some Chinese syllables that were quite a challenge for someone who could not get his mouth around speaking English most times.

As he finally was able to get the name that Shan and Jing had endowed him with, Jack smiled proudly and stated in a grand fashion, "They told me that it means '_Great Fighting Dragon o' the Caribbean'_! Tha's why I got a dragon tattoo!... ooo... ow..." he winced, reaching back to the bandage.

Elizabeth bit her lip hard, and William could feel a giggle starting as he was holding her against him. She finally could not help but snicker more loudly, and it then bubbled into a full peal of laughter. Jack blinked at her with a bit of a frown, twiddling the rum bottle a bit. "Wot's so funny, Izzy?" His mustache twitched nervously... he was wondering what she found so amusing.

"Jack... in the short time that I was the captain of the Empress, I learned a bit of Cantonese from Tai Huang." She looked into the captain's dark eyes almost apolegetically, as his bravado seemed to be melting right before their eyes. As his face fell, she tried to think of a kind way to put it, "... Shan and Jing were teasing you, darling... the name that they gave to you really means...'_Skinny Little Dragon Who Boasts Too Much'_..."

William turned and regarded his wife with his mouth dropping open, aghast that she would be so honest to puncture Jack's ego so blatantly, and then he, too, started to laugh a little. Jack stared at them for a long while, taking this all in, and then he stifled a rather large pout with another pull from the rum.

Drawing himself back up, and wincing from his flesh wound, he sniffed haughtily and said, "Well... the '_dragon_' part is th' same! Not nearly as good as my name fer Sao Feng!' Waiting to turn the conversation back in his favor, he looked down his nose at the Turners, deciding to live up to being a skinny little dragon who boasts... smiling slyly, he said, "Alright, Izzy, wot does 'Sao Feng' actually mean?"

"Well, it loosely translates to mean '_Howling Wind'_..."

Jack closed his eyes halfway, leaned back in a superior fashion, and said, "My insult to him was calling him..." and he tried to wind his mouth around some Cantonese words that made Elizabeth whoop with glee. Jack enjoyed the reaction, as William looked at both of them in frustration. "Alright, you two, you are losing me!" William said, "What does _that_ mean?"

As Elizabeth buried her face in her husband's shoulder in giggles, Jack said, "None of us knew tha' Sao Feng had come into the room when we were laughin' at me new name fer him... after putting up wif all o' his own boastin' fer two days, an' not even gettin' me a boat out of it fer all o' me havin' t' listen t' his never shuttin' 'is mouth," Jack waggled his fingers like as if his hands were talking ducks, "... I changed 'is name from '_Howling Wind' _to '_Big Bag O' Steamy Hot Air Wot Smells Like Gas_'... "

William burst into laughter as Elizabeth broke into giggles, again. William grinned, and said, "In front of Shan and Jing???? No wonder Sao Feng wanted to kill you!"

Jack chuckled, himself, and said, "So much fer any more of Sao Feng's hospitality... ow..." he winced, then shrugged with a grin. "... oh well... I was tired o' stayin' in a stinky ol' bath house, anyways...I headed straight fer a tattoo parlor... 'Fightin' Dragon'... 'Skinny Little Dragon'... better'n bein' a big bag o' steamy hot air," he reasoned, "... wot smells like gas." And he belched, again, almost elegantly.

۞


	37. His Little Bird

_**Disclaimer: **They belong to Disney, they are mine only in me dreams._

۞

The mood aboard the ship was somber, and the captain had sunk into such a depression that the crew was actually becoming a bit concerned for their own safety, as the captain was not known for a great deal of patience if foolish behaviour was evidenced... he was known to shoot first and ask questions later; everyone kept to their duties and kept their mouths shut. Usually the days that they left port for open sea were days of high spirits, but today was not going to be one of those days.

The first mate watched his captain with great concern, as he oversaw the crewmen unfurl the sails and the anchor was rolled up. The seas were fair and the time was nigh... the wind filled the sails fully as soon as they were let out, and the ship lurched forward in the capable hands of the helmsman. The captain did not move from his place at the stern, watching the land that they were about to leave behind them start to slip away. The first mate thought about the past year, and he watched the unmoving back of his captain as the wind blew his long, dark hair all about him, his long coat catching the wind as if it were a part of the sails, the long tails of his bandana waving about his back as if they were being hoisted as the ship's colours...

۞

_...She was a serving wench at the largest tavern in Dublin... a tiny girl, only about five feet tall, with a wasp-thin waist and a ready smile. She had waist long hair, naturally blue-black in colour, and in lovely, bouncing ringlet curls. Her skin was as dark as a walnut shell, and her dancing, sparkling eyes were warm and chocolate brown. She wore a colorful cotton skirt, and her hands wove and darted about as she spoke, telling stories from her travels in her family's gypsy caravan. _

_She had caught the captain's eye, and he was almost instantly in love with her. He had been alone most of his life... his mother had borne him out of wedlock, and his parents had not married until after he was born. His father was a sailor, and had died at sea. The captain had never known his father, and the only thing that he'd inherited from the man was his last name and his long, slender hands. His own mother, a free spirit just like this lovely gypsy girl, had moved from place to place with her young son, until he finally took to the sea to unleash his own restless, wild spirit, and had become a cabin boy upon a merchant vessel. He had heard from someone that his mother had taken out from Ireland and had married another husband in Glasgow, Scotland... a man named Turner, he thought, but he could not be sure. Perhaps he had half-siblings by now, but he shrugged it all off as he watched the enchanting gypsy girl dance and sing in his own native language, Gaelic. _

_As she passed around her tambourine to collect coins in appreciation of her seductive dancing, the girl's eyes met the black, mesmerizing eyes of the young pirate captain. He had just been able to obtain his own ship, and was about to embark upon the adventure of his young lifetime... he was about to head for the Orient to meet, informally, with other pirate captains. He was a pirate lord, even at this tender age, passed along to him by the man who had taken him in as a cabin boy... a pirate lord at the age of twenty two._

_As he drank his Irish whiskey, the young gypsy girl kept watching him with her dark eyes sparkling... she had a strange gleam to her eyes, he thought, like as if she was not quite seeing everything as it was... like she was seeing something on another strange level, he thought. As she read palms and flirted with the other tavern patrons, she finally was pulled aside, roughly, by the tavernkeeper and ordered to serve up drinks, not fortunes. _

_The captain's sallow face frowned as the lovely young thing was handled so roughly, and once he heard her being slapped in the back room... hot words being exchanged and another slap. The captain stood up and made his way to the back room... what happened next was Dublin history, as the tavernkeeper was given a rough taste of his own medicine before he was shot dead. The captain was a pirate... and was ruthless to those who dared to break unbreakable laws... one of which, in his mind, was striking a woman... a woman that the young captain was totally captivated by..._

۞

_The crew was of the opinion that having a woman on board was bad luck, but having a woman that was with child was good luck, indeed, especially when the woman was as sprightly and beautiful as their captain's woman. She could cook, she could administer medicine, she could dance and tell stories that would curl one's grimy hair, and she was wildly at home upon the sea. At Shipwreck Island, she told the captain that she was carrying his child, and he had never been so happy in his life. His life was a good one... he had signed the unofficial register in Shipwreck City, and the pirate world knew that there was a new Pirate Lord of Madagascar. He was also approached with a proposition for another important position, one that transcended his title as a pirate lord... but he had proven his salt for several years, and was being considered as a prime candidate for the most powerful position in the world of the Brethren of the Coast._

_He offered to marry her and give the baby his name, but his beautiful gypsy girl merely laughed, and said that marriage did not suit either one of them. She was happy with things the way that they were, and she would accompany the captain upon her Irish harp as he played his turtleshell guitar... they were happy... almost too happy, it seemed..._

_It was not her time to give birth, but she went into early labor as they were returning to Madagascar to their home port... the typhoon season was upon them, and they had hoped to dodge the storms that were now dotting the horizen, but the seas began to churn much like the pain that Maggie Sparrow's petite body was being overcome with in great waves. It was too early... it was much too early for the child to come... yet there was nothing that could be done to stop what was to be borne upon this day, whether it was to be the captain's child or the storm that was about to keep them from putting in. The Indian Ocean opened up with the sky and threw her worst at them for two days, as Maggie clung to the bunk that she and the captain shared, and struggled to give life to the baby who was stubbornly insisting upon coming into the world..._

_He did not breathe, at first... and Maggie had lost consciousness for the loss of blood... the captain desperately willed his tiny son to breathe, rubbing his little body to warm him, and speaking to him softly... his black eyes would glance over at the mother of his child, who was lying pale and still in the bunk, as the first mate wrapped her in blankets. The ship was tossing wildly in the storm, as the wee, premature boy finally let out a weak sound like that of a tiny baby bird... his dark, slender little fists doubled up as he finally took in a breath and cried like a baby should...loudly. The captain held his son in his hands, and in relief, smiled at him, wrapping him in his own coat and marveling at this small wonder, who was so irritated at being born that his little nose wrinkled up. The captain finally laughed a bit, as the wee one finally opened up his own eyes and stared indignantly at his father... his knotted up fists opening, and waving about lightly in the air, as if he were trying to talk with his hands..._

_۞_

_The birth had taken a hard toll upon Maggie... she was sick for several days, and the captain thought that his tiny son might starve to death before Maggie was able to feed him. Once she was awake and able to hold her son, there was a strange gleam to her eye that the crew almost feared. Madness... she had always been on the brink, and now it was thought that the illness that had overtaken her by the birth of her son and the loss of blood had finally driven her over. She was prone to vagueness, and she began to talk to herself and to others that were not there... the captain watched her as she cared for his baby son, and she was able to focus completely upon him and loved the child with all of her heart, but her heart was closing itself off to all others around her. Her eyes were only for her babe... she was not even able to remember the captain's name, most times, and she grew withdrawn and morose. She wanted to go back to Ireland. She was homesick. The captain acquiesced, thinking that a visit would do her good, but he was not prepared for what would greet his ears when they reached the craggy coast of Galway._

_Maggie was leaving him... she'd had enough of pirate life, and was going to move on... a true gypsy... never to stay in one place for long. The captain did not reduce himself to begging, but he asked her how she would support herself, hoping that she would allow him to care for her and their boy. She turned to him with mad eyes, eyes that only saw her own version of reality, and smiled benignly. "I can sew and make lace" she had said, "... We will be fine. There is no need for you in my life..." With those words, the captain was stunned... his beautiful gypsy girl... his love... the mother of his son... did not need him._

_As she and the crew were moving her belongings off of the ship, he held his baby boy in his hands, looking deeply into the chocolate brown eyes. The baby stared back at him, and all that the captain could see was Maggie. "My little bird," he whispered to his boy, as the tiny one hiccuped and gazed at his father's face, now already creasing from the weather that he had endured since he was a cabin boy. "My little bird." The captain tried to memorize everything about his son... his dark skin... his fine high cheekbones... the tiny hands waving about... his black, black curls... "My little bird"..._

_And as Maggie took the child, the captain felt his heart closing inside of him like a locking chest... his breaking heart... his boy looked just like Maggie... right down to the gleam in his brown eyes... except for his slender Teague hands, the boy was his mother all over again. He would not fight Maggie... the baby needed his mother, and a pirate ship was no place for him without her._

_Maggie did not say a word to him as she walked past him, the baby tied into a sling made of her fringed shawl; as she went down the gangplank and onto the rocky natural pier, she turned and looked up at the captain, smiling oddly... "Don't try to find us... we won't need you... thank you for bringing us back..." and with that, she walked away brightly, talking to herself in Gaelic, her harp under her arm..._

_Suddenly, there was the sharp cry of a baby splitting the air... a wailing cry, as if he knew what was happening... and Maggie kept walking._

۞

"Orders, cap'n?"

The captain turned to look at his first mate, as he finally could no longer see the coast of Ireland shrinking away behind them. The look upon his face was dark... foreboding... and it left the loyal first mate cold clear down to his feet. The captain's eyes were glittering, deep pools of despair. As he turned to face his first mate, he said in his deep, low voice, "You have a son... how is he?"

The first mate cleared his throat... this had been a hard voyage back to Ireland, and his captain seemed changed... he decided he had better do his best to humour this man who, up until now, had been very good to him. There was no reason to change his feelings, he thought, except for the captain's naturally dark nature to turn darker with the departure of the tiny baby that he loved so much. "My son Joshamee?" the first mate answered, "He's fine, sir. Joshamee has been at sea for some time now, and from what I hear he plans t' join th' Navy..."

"... does he know about you bein' a pirate?"

"No, cap'n. He thinks I am a merchant sea man."

"We'll keep it that way... it's better that sons not know about their fathers, savvy?"

The first mate did not know how to answer that one. He shuffled his feet uncomfortably, and rubbed his graying grizzled face thoughtfully. "Do ye have an idea where we might be headin', cap'n?"

The captain looked hard at his first mate, his eyes hard. "Aye. We are headin' back t' Shipwreck Island. I've decided t' try for th' position that is available... the Keeper of the Code."

The first mate opened his mouth and then closed it, again. The captain had not said anything about that until now... just as the love of his life had disappeared into the horizen, taking their beautiful baby son with her.

The captain walked slowly to his cabin, and opened the door. Turning to his first mate, he said, sadly, "... Aye, Mr. Gibbs. Don't tell your son, Joshamee, anything about yourself... always let him think what he will."

And as he turned to go into his cabin and lock away his heart from the world, Captain Edward Jonathan Teague could understand the legend of Davy Jones a bit more.. he felt like cutting his own heart out.

Sighing deeply, as though he might never be able to again, he wrapped one hand around the neck of a bottle of rum...and he wrapped his other hand around the silver locket that was around his neck, under his shirt, and next to the heart that was slowly turning to stone. The locket that contained a single, black curl of hair. The locket engraved with one word...

_... Jack..._

۞


	38. Acceptance

_**Disclaimer: **Not mine, but that never stops pirates, savvy? _

_**Author's note: **As always, anyone who reads my fics knows that William has been released from being captain of the Dutchman, with certain conditions, and he and Elizabeth sail with Jack aboard the Pearl. The idea behind this one shot was mentioned in my longer fic, "The Ties That Bind", and I thought I would write Jack's viewpoint. This really happened to a friend of mine, who cannot father children because suffering with cases of the mumps and measles simaltaneously... Pirate Cat_

۞

William and Elizabeth were not upon the ship for a few hours. Every time that the mighty Black Pearl would require going into port, the ship's first mate and his wife would disembark and share a pleasant, romantic meal, just the two of them, and would take in the sights that were offered, arm in arm, to get away from their duties upon the Pearl and the confines of their cozy cabin for a short time.

It was always with the captain's insistence... he, himself, never brought any women aboard his own ship ... it was dreadful bad luck, according to his crew... so he could not begin to imagine sailing with the same woman, all of the time, every day, day in, day out... He had to hand it to the young couple that were his best friends. They were truly and inescapably in love.

As the Captain sat and watched sleeping baby Will in his basket, Jack Sparrow felt a bit of uncustomary meloncholy wash over him. Since his godson had been born upon his ship, he knew that there had been whisperings among the crew of just why the captain had taken such a shine to the little one that was not his, and of course, it always turned to musings behind Jack's back of the question of whether the captain had left any of himself behind in ports of dalliance all over the world, in the form of a child. Let them wonder, he thought... the stuff that legends are made of.

Little Will stirred a bit, and the captain leaned down to lift the boy and his blankets into his arms, his strong, slender hands enfolding the tiny one like a protective seashell. Leaning back in his chair upon the main deck, Jack propped his feet up on the railing and laid the baby across his thin chest, wrapping the blankets around his tiny form. Little Will made no sound, but cuddled himself against the captain like a kitten. Jack smiled.

He wondered, as the twilight sky began to fill with soft colours, if his own father had ever wanted grandchildren. Probably no more than Jack had wanted children, he told himself. That much was probably true...

Sighing, his thoughts continued. No matter. Children were not to be in Jack Sparrow's life. A bout with scarlet fever and mumps at the age of fourteen had made certain that Jack Sparrow would never father a child. The only person that knew this was Bootstrap Bill Turner, who had saved the young Sparrow's life as he laid in a burning fever and unbearable pain in a rented room above the Faithful Bride during that illness. And Bill wasn't telling how the two diseases in tandem had pretty much ended any chance of Jack ever creating a child of his own.

Why should it bother me, Jack wondered, as he cuddled Little Will in a most uncaptainly fashion. Because he couldn't do it... whether he wanted children or not, he couldn't do it.

But it did bother him. Of all of the things that he could do, no matter how outlandish or heroic or brave or selfish they were, he could not do that one thing that William could, he perused, as he regarded the tiny baby that was the very image of his first mate. Nature had made certain that Jack would never have his own son or daughter.

Oh well, he thought, dismissing the sadness with half-closed eyes looking out over the torchlit streets of Tortuga City... there is nothing that he could do to change any of it, even if he had really wanted to. Besides, he chuckled, who would want another little Jack Sparrow running about, anyway...

As the baby stirred against him, the captain thought that it was rather amazing that he did not miss finding himself a girlfriend to have a bit of fun with upon this night. As he liked to tell himself with a naughty grin, just because his own personal "cannon" shot only blanks didn't mean he didn't like to fire it... it functions just fine, thank you, it just... shot blanks. His dark eyes widened and he felt a tiny bit guilty, thinking such things while holding this beautiful picture of purity and innocence in his arms. Staring down at the baby asleep against his vest, he wondered had he ever been this innocent?

And he laughed softly as the babe puckered up his lips in his sleep, and the captain was shaken out of his momentary thoughtfulness... and his quiet laughing was shaking Little Will into wakefulness. As the baby cooed and looked up at the one who was watching over him for a few hours, Jack grinned down at him and said, out loud, "Who needs to father children, when I can jus' borrow one now an' then, eh, mate?"

As he rearranged himself upon his chair for more convenient conversation with the wee one in his care, the captain continued, "... I wouldn't know how t' be a father... I wouldn't know wot t' do..." as he fussily wrapped the blanket closer around the chubby baby, who yawned.

The captain's eyes softened as he carefully put his hands upon either side of the wee one, to make sure that Little Will did not roll out of his grasp. "... I wouldn't have th' slightest idea... besides, Bill told me when we suspected tha'... well..." his face reddened a bit, even if he was talking to a baby, "Bill said that real manhood is acceptin' one's self th' way that one is, not by wot one _can't _do, savvy?"

He jumped a little as he heard the low, laughing voices of the Turners as they were walking along the dock, their arms about each other... Elizabeth was carrying a rose, and William was holding her close to him. Jack's eyes rolled at the obvious love that shone from the young couple's eyes... a sight that seemed out of place in a place like Tortuga.

"Was he a good baby for you, Jack? We tried not to be gone too long... I know how nervous it makes you to watch Little Will for us," Elizabeth was gathering the sleeping Little Will out of Jack's lap, as William went to fetch tankards with which to partake of some fine Tortugan rum with their captain. "... thank you for looking after the baby so that we could have some time in port..."

The captain merely stood up and pulled chairs all around a barrel for all to join him, as he simply grinned and replied, his arms spreading out wide, "No worries, Izzy! Little Will was as good as a little gold doubloon, an' wot do ye mean it makes me nervous?" he drew himself up to his full height, proudly, "Who am I? I'm Captain Jack Sparrow... I can do anything!" Elizabeth grinned and kissed him lightly on the cheek as she made her way toward her and William's cabin, and baby Will's snug cradle.

Jack let his arms drop to his sides slowly. As he watched Little Will's curly head nestle in slumber in his mother's arms, Jack thought ruefully, "... I'm Captain Jack Sparrow... I can do anything..." the tiny one's pink fist waved about in the lamplight, and he and his mother disappeared into the darkness.

Jack stood alone on the deck of his ship, and hung his head a little in the shadows...the Turners were so in love... this time he did not roll his eyes, sarcastically... he found himself to almost be a bit envious of something so pure as the love that those two shared...

"...I'm Captain Jack Sparrow... I can do anything," he repeated, sighing to himself, "... except have what they have..."

As William returned to the main deck with the bottle of rum, three mugs, and a huge smile for his friend, Jack found himself relieved to sit down with his first mate. As Elizabeth happily joined them, the captain was drawn into the merry conversation and joking that they always partook in, especially while in port. Hearing about who was doing what... where a brawl took place... how good the food might have been... what tavern had burned down...

And as the night went on, Jack found himself forgetting his thoughts of earlier on in the evening. He wondered why he had felt so sad.

As he grinned and listened to his young friends tell another amusing story that they both knew he would enjoy, he looked back over the experiences that they'd had together, and thought that he wasn't so bad off... he _did_ have what his young friends had... because _they_ accepted him for what he was... and they allowed him to share in _their_ happiness. They always included him in their lives these days... and shared their son with him.

"... besides," he repeated silently to himself, truthfully, "... we really _don't_ need another _me_ runnin' about... I'm Captain Jack Sparrow... an' one o' me is quite enough!"

۞


	39. The Destruction of the Past, Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**__: They all belong to Disney... along wif me weasly black heart._

_**Author's note:**__ It is a fact that Port Royal, Jamaica was partially destroyed by an earthquake, in the 1690s. This event has been used in some fanfics... I thought I would use it in one of my stories. I took liberty with it, a bit, and set it later into the 1700s, when my stories take place. As always, William is "pardoned" from the curse and no longer captains the Flying Dutchman. He and Elizabeth are crewmembers on the Black Pearl, which pleases the ship's beautiful captain a great deal._

۞

The night was like black velvet around them... the sky was clear, but there was no moon to cast a bright light over the water, or upon the large black galleon as it crept along in the still sea. The waters, themselves, rippled only slightly, like as if it was holding its breath in anticipation of another disaster like the one which had taken place. The ship finally slowed to a silent stop, and with a hand signal, the sails were furled and the anchor lowered only enough to slow any progress. The mighty Black Pearl blended into the night like she was a part of the night, herself. As her lamps were doused, she became completely invisible, much like her captain, with his handsome dark coloring, would; a dark, silent spectre when it was useful to him, ghostlike but for the sound of the trinkets interwoven upon his person.

The crew gathered about one solitary lantern sitting upon the black floorboards of the main deck, partially enclosed by crates pulled around to block the light from anyone that might be watching from the shore. They were there upon a mission of the heart... pirates did have hearts, after all, they just showed them in different ways than the civilized world did. They had just recieved news from James Norrington, the captain of the ghost ship, The Flying Dutchman, that there had been a dreadful disaster... a terrible act of nature that would no doubt cause a great deal of heartache for at least two of the crewmembers of the most famous pirate chip in the Caribbean. Port Royal, Jamaica, had been stricken by a devestating earthquake, and two thirds of the destroyed town was now thirty feet under water...

۞

"... I want to come, too, Will," Elizabeth Swann Turner was near tears, as her tall, muscular husband prepared to climb down the side of the ship to the waiting longboat. Captain Jack Sparrow looked at her with sympathetic eyes, as he, also was readying himself to lower himself into the darkness, below. William was steadfast.

"... No, my love. Your place is here, watching the Pearl with the rest of the crew." William pulled his wife to him, putting his hand under her chin to raise her lovely face to his. His soft brown eyes met hers, and she knew that what she had said sounded like a child. Jack leaned forward a bit, his own luminous dark eyes catching the small amount of light from the lantern nearby, "Izzy... you know better. We are in hostile waters, lass, an' your fightin' skills are needed right here, in case anything happens... which it won't... but there is always a chance..." The words were punctuated with two graceful forefingers held up in front of the captain's serious face.

Elizabeth laid her head against William's strong, scarred chest, and sighed. "I know... I wasn't thinking..." Looking back up at her husband, she leaned forward and kissed him, her arms around him in a warm, loving embrace.

As she laid her head upon his chest once more, as Jack's rum husky voice whispered to the gathered crew, "If you must speak, speak no louder than I am, now. The water is calm, an' th' wind is heading inland. There is nothing t' obstruct any sound, an' any noise louder 'n' this will carry clear in to shore. Be quiet... or it could be our necks."

Turning his face toward the Turners, he continued speaking to the crew, "You all know why we are here... this is a stronghold o' th' Navy an' th' East India Trading Company, but this was once home t' these two bloody pirates, here." Jack's gold teeth caught the lanternlight as he smiled, wryly, "... an' William an' I are goin' closer in t' find out wot we can about friends and acquaintances... no lootin' here, mates... we are only here for information, savvy?"

The crew was silent. None of them had any good memories of this place, save for hauling Jack Sparrow's scrawny arse out of the sparkling waters to finally reclaim his dark ship upon the very morning that he was to be hung at Gallows Point... many others had met their fates in the very same place, but because of a young blacksmith finding them and making them privy to what he had planned, and telling them where to be upon that morning, Jack Sparrow had been saved.

The only crewmembers who had friends left in Port Royal were Angus Murtogg and Giles Mullroy. They had no idea how many of their old mates had made it back to Port Royal after the Battle of the Maelstrom, but they were worried that there would be casualties among the military. The fort still stood, they had been told, but there were many who had been killed by falling debris, or drowned as the very waterfront fell out from under their feet.

As William finally gave Elizabeth one last kiss upon her forehead, he started over the side of the ship to the longboat, below. Jack prepared to follow him, when Elizabeth took a hold of his sleeve. Turning to look at her, he was greatly surprised that she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a firm hug, whispering, "Be careful."

Jack grinned and said, "'Careful' is me middle name, love." She frowned at shook her head at the captain, as his dark form disappeared over the side of the ship and into the black, the only evidence that he was there at all being the sound of his boots upon the rungs.

Soon, only the sound of the water lapping against the Pearl's hull, and the soft dipping sound of rowing oars was all that the crew could hear, and Elizabeth Swann Turner began to bite her fingernails as the two men that she loved more than anything in the world disappeared into the darkness.

۞

Hours passed. The night time stars crept by as the crew grew more and more on edge as there was no sign of their slight captain and his best friend... there was very little talking between the crew... the only sound that brought them any joy at all was the gurgling of Elizabeth's and William's newborn son. Elizabeth brought him out of their cabin to take her mind off of her worry and sadness. As Joshamee Gibbs sat down next to her, she looked up at him with sorrowful eyes and said, softly, "I almost wish that we didn't come... I know that Jack is being very kind in bringing us here to try to find out if anyone is alive, but there will be nothing left of the life that Will and I knew..."

Joshamee smiled at the bonnie lass, and whispered, "I know Jack, Missy, an' he has his reasons t' come back t' Port Royal. He knows tha' this was home t' you an' Will, an' if it can help th' two of ye t' find closure an' complete acceptance o' th' lives that you both have chosen, then so be it."

Elizabeth thought that this was an odd thing to say... she had never had one bit of doubt that she and William had made the right decision to stay with the crew of the Black Pearl, but perhaps Jack was worried that they did have doubts. Or maybe he was just wanting to see things for himself, as he was inclined to do.

Her thoughts were finally interrupted some time later by the sound of oars, rowing a bit slower than before, and she joined the rest of the crew at the railing, straining her eyes against the darkness. Against the even darker water, the silhouette of the longboat materialized like a ghost, with a taller figure rowing, and a slender figure with a tricorn hat at the bow, leaning down low, watching the water with dark, sharp, cat-like eyes.

As Jack and William climbed slowly up the rungs and were pulled onto the main deck, William's tight face and Jack's terse "Weigh anchor... let's get th' hell outta here an' head for open waters... Joshamee, get me a bottle..." was all that the crew needed to hear... especially since Jack called his quartermaster by his first name.

As the Pearl's sails were, again, filling with the power of the low breezes, the ship slowly and silently made it's way back out of the mouth of the bay. William remained silent, his eyes watching the sky as the stars began to move amid the three tall masts of the ship. Turning, he saw the image of his wife, standing a few feet away, watching him with bare emotion etched upon her face. As he opened his arms, she ran to him and embraced him, to comfort him without even knowing what would be forthcoming from him and their captain, who was now pulling the cork of a bottle of rum with his teeth, spitting it out and pouring rum into three tankards.

As they went further and further out to sea, the lanterns were lit, and the warm light was finally inviting enough for the two silent men to tell the crew what they had seen.

۞

_To be continued with Chapter 2..._


	40. The Destruction of the Past, Chapter 2

۞

The crew of the Black Pearl was relieved to be slipping quietly out of the mouth of Port Royal Bay... the moonless sky cast a dark pall over the already somber mood aboard the ship, as the captain and first mate sat and drank a full tankard of rum before they chose to say a word. As each gathered their thoughts, they kept glancing at each other, taking deep, tired breaths and looking away from each other several times. It was then that Elizabeth noticed that they were both wet... at some point, both of them had been in the water... a thought that made her shudder.

Finally, as the crew waited respectfully, William spoke first. "It took much longer for Jack and I to row in than we thought it would. Just as we had expected, there was a great deal of debris under the surface, and we had to be as quiet as we could. We chose to finally pull the longboat ashore as far away from the torches of the fort as we could... it was quite rocky, and we had a tough go of it trying to find a suitable place to hide the boat."

He paused, looking at every face of every crewman there. Jack cast his eyes down, as William said, softly, "There are no docks... there is no waterfront..." He looked at his wife, who was letting it all sink in, "... there is no town. Only the fort." He lost his voice momentarily, as his mind wandered back...

_... as the pair crept along what was left of the cobblestone streets, it was incredibly eerie to both of them how deserted and quiet the once bustling seaport was, now. There was hardly anything there that Jack recognized, having only been in Port Royal a few times.. the last time not being a visit that he cared to remember... he had been pulled from the damp brig of the Dauntless and dragged up to the prison at the fort, where he awaited hanging... William's eyes nearly teared up as he looked up at the fort and remembered seeing his friend handled quite roughly while he had been pardoned for his acts of piracy in order to rescue Elizabeth. The only Navy personnel who had treated Jack kindly were the two guards, Murtogg and Mullroy. Most might consider the two simpletons, but they were good men, brave men, who were simply not suited well to military life. Commodore Norrington was not unkind to Jack, but merely treated him as if he were a non person as Jack was taken away. Luckily, William thought, James thought of things much differently, now._

_Jack placed a finger to his lips and looked at his friend, as they heard footsteps... a small detachment of guards, walking carefully through the broken cobblestones... pressing themselves up against a wall in an alley, they heard the voices of the individuals as they passed. "Didja hear that Governor Swann's daughter is alive, and is sailing with the Black Pearl?" _

_"Aye, I heard that the young blacksmith, Turner, has turned up alive! The sailors in the tavern in the village near here said that he was the captain of the Flying Dutchman, but damned if he is alive!" _

_"Heard that Sparrow had been killed, too, but that can't be..." Jack's glowing eyes had a sparkle in them as William's eyes crinkled at the edges... they had been sailing together for nearly two years, now, since World's End, and William had been first mate for almost a year. News traveled slowly, or they were just living fast! _

_As the group passed, the two friends made their way up the winding streets toward the Governor's Mansion. Neither of them was prepared for what they saw... _

_Jack had never been there, but he could tell that the home had once been quite grandiose...the destruction was devastating. The once stately home was in ruins. __The plaster upon the outside walls was crumbling, exposing the brick and morter walls beneath like a forlorn skeleton. All of the windows were broken, staring out into the night like hollow eyes...and the front gate and walls were caved in. As they carefully approached, William's eyes filled with sadness. This had been a lovely colonial home at one time... _

_Going inside, the destruction almost made William become overcome with emotion. The stairway was collapsed... the ceiling was gone, and the home was nearly impassible due to the rubble of the roofing tiles that now were piled in the middle of what once had been the large entry hall. Looking all around him, he felt the arm of his companion go around his shoulder to comfort him. There was no reason to stay here. It was gone. In a husky whisper, the captain said, "Are ye alright, lad?" William simply nodded, and then said, "Let's go..." _

_As he turned to step out of the ruined doorway, he happened to look down, and smiled, wryly. Amidst the piles of debris was the remains of the small candelabra that he had pulled an arm off of while delivering James Norrington's sword to the governor... he wondered if the servants ever found out who had broken it and placed it hurriedly into hiding. _

_They traversed down the side of the house, and William could not help but look up at the window where Elizabeth's room had been... how many times had he gazed at the light above, desperately in love and thinking that he would never have a chance to express his love... Jack chuckled quietly, and whispered, "... an' of course, ye never figured out how t' climb up th' bloody trellis, did ya?"_

_William shook his head honestly, and whispered back, "No, but I wasn't a pirate then, mate..."_

_Watching the back of the pirate captain who was carefully picking his way through what was once the gardens, he found himself smiling slightly as he pondered the life that he and his wife led, now._

"Izzy," Jack continued the story, as he gently patted her hand. She was trying not to cry, and swallowed hard, as she looked into Jack's brown eyes. "Izzy, darling, ye'll be glad t' find out tha' most o' th' servants o' the governor's mansion survived. William an' I were able to make it t' th' village tavern about two miles past th' fort, an' I loaned him me hat an' coat t' wear so's he wouldn't be easily recognised. I hid outside, an' he was able t' ask around about some o' th' townfolk."

Looking up at his newest crewmen, Jack said, as kindly as he could, "... we were not able t' find out much about Navy casualties, mates..." Angus and Giles nodded sadly, as their captain continued, "... th' town was pretty much wiped out o' wot military was there... William was told tha' most o' th' personnel at th' fort is fresh from England..."

Jack's voice grew a bit dark, as he said, "Imagine. Th' fort is built so bloody well that only th' barracks collapsed. Killed most o' th' men there... collapsed right into the yard where th' gallows stands." He frowned darkly, and muttered, "Th' gallows...still stands..."

"The servants were gone by the time the aftershocks destroyed the governor's mansion." William pulled his wife close, as she smiled, shakily and said, "Estrella?"

William nodded, "Your personal maid went back to London." Elizabeth wiped her eyes and smiled. Estrella had been a loyal maid, and had seen the love blossoming between William and Elizabeth before either of them even saw it.

Elizabeth finally looked up at her husband, and asked what she had been dreading, "What about your master at the blacksmith shop... John Brown?" William's face grew somber, but he was not as upset as she might have thought.

"Well, my love, he is dead... but he was gone long before the earthquake." William's voice grew a bit bitter, as he said, "After I left you in the jail to find Jack, and I never returned, the blacksmith shop went out of business..."

"Jus' left _everything_ there... everything but th' donkey, I s'pose," Jack said, enigmatically, as suddenly William shot him a glare. Jack closed eyes halfway and smiled slightly.

William's mood turned sad, as he took up Elizabeth's hands, as the others listened raptly, "... the men that I talked to at the tavern said that after 'young Turner turned pirate for good' and it was up to Master Brown to run his own smithy, he could not fill the orders and could not find an apprentice to put up with his laziness. He closed up the shop and drank himself to death not long after you and I left Port Royal."

"Are we surprised?" Jack asked, blithely, as he wrung out his hair a bit... they had not said how they had both come back to the Pearl with wet hair and damp clothing.

William did not answer... it seemed that there was something else that happened during their foray into the ruined Port Royal that he did not wish to discuss in front of the others. Jack looked at Joshamee Gibbs, who turned to the rest of the crew and said, "We are t' get th' Pearl far outta th' bay, gents... man your posts an' let's catch what little wind we have t'night... let's let th' cap'n an' Mr. an' Mrs. Turner have a bit o' privacy..."

As the crew reluctantly went to their duties in order to put some distance between themselves and Jamaica, William leaned forward toward his captain, and said, "Jack, we have a need to continue our conversation with Elizabeth in your cabin..."

Elizabeth was puzzled, as Jack seemed to expect William's slightly irritated demeanor, and they picked up their mugs of rum, and retired to the privacy of the captain's quarters...

_To be continued..._

۞


	41. The Destruction of the Past, Chapter 3

۞

Elizabeth went ahead with the bottle of rum in her hand, and lit several candles in Jack's cabin, as Jack and William followed... but as soon as the cabin door was closed, William immediately pulled Jack's arm around his own shoulder and curtly said, "To your bunk... let's get that boot off right away..." Jack bit his lip silently, as he lifted his right foot up and painfully hopped his way over to his bunk on the other side of the cabin. Elizabeth looked up in alarm, "Jack! You're hurt!"

As they helped onto his bunk, and put his right leg up gingerly, William carefully pulled Jack's boot off as the captain winced and grunted a bit in pain. William shook his head angrily, as he saw that Jack's right ankle was swelled up to twice the normal size it should be, and was turning a deep, dark shade of purple, and the skin was scraped raw. Elizabeth's mouth dropped open and she said, "Jack! What...how..?"

No answer was given, as William sat on the edge of the bunk and gently worked Jack's foot around to determine if his ankle was broken.

"Ouch!" Jack whimpered, "Owwww." William glared up at his companion, as he said to his wife, "Get some canvas strips so we can bind this ankle up. It's not broken, but it's twisted and sprained pretty badly... it's a wonder that you could walk on it, you daft fool, let alone try to _hide_ that it was injured at all from the rest of the crew! I ought to go ahead and break it for you, anyway! Is it any wonder that you always get sick or banged up all the time? You're so bloody careless!"

Jack's face was sullen, and he was rather surprised that William was so upset with him. They had not had one single cross word about anything, to his recollection, since the events at World's End, their friendship was that strong, but it was like he was looking at the intense young blacksmith, again.

As Elizabeth returned with some strips of old black canvas from the Pearl's sails, she winced as William carefully made certain one more time that the injury was not severe, and then asked one more time... "What happened, Jack? Will..." Even she was surprised at how upset her husband seemed. William gently began to bind Jack's ankle, and said, tersely, "We almost foundered in the longboat, and Jack nearly drowned..."

Elizabeth's hand shot up to her mouth. Her eyes widened, then, poking Jack hard in the arm with a finger, she glared at the captain and said, "And you said that 'careful' was your middle name!"

Jack growled at her, then took up the story, looking at the angry William with a defensive expression. Turning to speak to Elizabeth, the captain said, " As well as I can usually see in th' dark, there were so many obstacles... so many things tha' we bumped against under th' water...chimneys... tiled rooftops... of all things, we were damn near taken out by a bloody submerged flag pole!"

The captains' eyebrows drew together in a slight frown, as took a long, slurping swallow of the rum, then wiped his mouth with the back of his branded arm. Looking at the brand, momentarily, he carefully pulled his shirt sleeve down over the stark white scar, and slowly buttoned the cuff, for no other reason than he was just not in the mood to look at it. William finished bandaging Jack's ankle snugly, and finally simply looked at his captain, who was obviously in some discomfort. He tied off the bandage and shook his head at the captain in some sort of resignation.

As Elizabeth sat close to her husband, she took his strong blacksmith's hands in her own, and hesitatingly said, "... Will... the smithy.. is it.." William squeezed her hands, and shook his head. "That, my love, is why Jack nearly drowned."

"What??? At the smithy?" Elizabeth spun around and stared at Jack, who was taking another long drink, looking back at her evenly. He began to smile, strangely, but then winced a bit and said nothing, tilting his head to one side and nodding toward William. William was definitely not smiling.

"The blacksmith's shop is gone... it is also under about 30 feet of water." Looking at Jack, William got an edge to his voice, again, "The flag pole that we got hung up on was the one that was in the square across from the smithy, outside of the dress shop that you used to frequent... "

Elizabeth was still staring at Jack out of the corner of her eye. She then looked at William and said, "Yes, the Belle Image dress shop that I would visit, after which I would then sneak over to the smithy to spend time with you when Father thought I was having a fitting..." they both smiled a bit at that one. How innocent they were, then...

"Well, the longboat got hung up on the top of the flag pole, which was just under the water's surface and Jack, in all of his infinite wisdom and athletic prowess..." William threw his friend a sarcastic look, "...Jack decided to go into the water see if he could go underneath the boat, and force the bow free."

William narrowed his eyes at a now expressionless Jack, who let his first mate continue... his loyal first mate, who was now directing his angry, hot words at the captain.

"...I nearly worried myself into a state when you went underwater and did not come back up, Jack! I am not one given to panic, anymore, but..." William pointed an frustrated finger at his captain and finally sputtered, "...you helped me to regain my heart from the Dead Man's Chest and reunite me with my wife, Jack, but then you damn near stopped that heart with a _heart attack_! I couldn't even yell at you until _now_! Is it not enough that Elizabeth and I have lost all that we had of our past lives, but to almost lose _you_, again, too?" William's face was filled with anguish. There was a momentary silence between the two men.

"Ye know I can swim like a fish, William!" Jack argued a bit lamely with his first mate... but he knew, now, just how much this disaster had affected this strong young man.

"I know, Jack, but it was like swimming in black ink, and there was so much dangerous debris lying underwater that you could have been injured or killed by... fallen timbers, loose stone, broken glass... and we had to remain silent while all of this was happening so as not to get caught!" William's anger cooled, as he searched for words, "Jack... I... cannot believe that you did what you did... "

As it all sank in with William what might have happened to the captain, his fury completely dissipated, and Jack's trademark bravado melted in front of all of them, sympathically, as William put his bandana'd head into his hands. Elizabeth said nothing, as she did not know what to do for either of them, except to let them talk this out.

Not raising his head from his hands, William said, softly, "Jack was under the water for too long... I was frantic when he wouldn't come out from under the longboat... I slipped myself down into the water to try to find him, without making any noise... it wasn't until I saw bubbles coming to the surface that I realized where he was, and that he was in trouble. His foot had become entangled in the loose rope strung from the flagpole, and we nearly had to break his ankle to free him before he drowned... he had been much deeper in the water than he said that he would be..."

As Jack cleared his throat a little, he finally was able to say, "I'm sorry, lad..." his face brightened, slightly, "... but th' smiffy was where we met, remember?... where this whole adventure really started, ye know..."

William looked up, his handsome face filled with distress, "... Jack... you could have _died_ down there... we could have lost you over a material thing..."

"But I didn't die... you saved me, again. I just took in a bit of water, tha's all... an' it was worth it," was Jack's mysterious, slurred reply. "I coughed th' water up quietly, didn't I?"

William stared at his captain in frustration, as Elizabeth bit her lip, nervously. Jack was given to some very mad moments, and this had been one of them. "Jack... why were you down so deep in the water... why?"

Elizabeth gazed at her two men. As they both took several swallows of rum, William stood up from his chair, and as Elizabeth gasped in wonder, William slowly pulled a sword from his scabbard... not the sword that he had assigned to himself as the weapons master of the ship... amazingly, this was one of his own, hand forged swords... not one of his more ornate creations, but an unmistakable piece of Turner craftsmanship... it was only slightly damaged from weeks underwater, but the rust that had formed would be easily cleaned by an expert's loving hand... William held out the fine weapon for all to see, his feelings clearly etched upon his face.

Jack was speaking with a very odd tone to his voice, "Ye don't have one o' your own swords, mate... I knew about where th' door o' th' smiffy was to th' east o' th' flagpole...I just found it in the dark, swam in by gropin' along, an' grabbed wot I could... I remembered where th' rack was right by th' door... I'm glad it was a finished one, an' that I didn't cut me hand off in th' dark.. I rather wish that it was th' one that you'd thrown at th' door t' stop me from escaping..." the captain concluded, simply.

William hung his head in exasperation and gave up. Jack had a hint of that gleam in his eye that always worried the Turners. Elizabeth turned back to Jack, and finally her tears began to spill. "Jack..."

Looking up at the young couple, Jack turned the bottle of rum around a few times in his slender hands, and blinked his dark eyes at them, hard, "In finding a sword in th' dark in a place I'd only been once... that was plain, dumb luck... as for the events o' th' rest o' th' evening..." Jack's voice trailed off as he looked directly into his anguished young friends' faces, and very suddenly spoke his heart, in the strangely direct way that was his habit, when he chose to do so.

"When th' two o' you had your wedding stopped by Cutler Beckett, ye had no idea wot would befall all of us, savvy? Ye knew tha' neither o' ye would be able to return t' your homes after turnin' pirate... an' now there is nothin' left o' th' homes tha' ye left behind... aye, th' town will probably come back, but not th' way that ye both knew it." The captain took a much smaller sip of rum, his dark eyes never leaving theirs.

Turning to Elizabeth, the captain leaned forward, his hands in midair, and said, "Your late father took 'is job as governor as seriously as my father does, as Keeper of th' Code, Izzy. I never held a grudge against th' governor because he was doin' 'is job nearly as well as I do mine. He was an honorable man. An' exceptin' for th' two o' you, I woulda been dancin' th' hangman's jig at Gallow's Point, back there..." Jack tossed his head to the Jamaican shore that was further and further away with every wash of waves at the ship's dark stern. "... be glad, love, that th' governor did _not_ see wot William an' I saw tonight in wot's left o' Port Royal... your town's waterfront an' main square... it's all at th' bottom o' the bay, now... many, many lives were snuffed out in a matter of minutes..."

Turning his face away from the emotional young couple who had lost everything except their memories of the town where they had both grown up, the captain looked at the beautiful sword that he had groped his way into the smithy in watery blackness for, and muttered, "It was th' least tha' I could do, t' try t' get one o' William's swords for 'im before we left... it isn't right that William doesn't even carry one o' his own fine swords..."

Tilting his head to one side, and sounding as if he were talking to himself, Jack continued,"...it struck me as William an' I were looking about in th' ruins o' th' Governor's Mansion... if it weren't for th' good fortune of your wedding bein' interrupted, wif all that followed, William coulda been workin' at th' smiffy th' day th' quake hit... I assume that th' two of ye woulda lived above th' shop, Izzy... the two o' ye coulda ended up just bein' numbers on a casualty list... Instead, for better or worse, you're sailin' on th' Black Pearl wif a daft scamp like meself... think about it..."

Jack's hand vaguely waved a small circle in the air, and he took yet another swallow of rum.

William stood with Elizabeth, caressing the rusting masterpiece that Jack had risked his life for, both of them silently and sadly thinking this over... Jack looked at the young couple, and grew concerned when he saw the same tangled jumble of emotions that had overtaken William's tanned face on the day that it was revealed that he would be able to leave the Flying Dutchman.

Jack painfully got up from his bunk, to comfort his first mate and tearful quartermaster second mate, in his odd manner of simply looking at them appealingly...they were momentarily overwhelmed with sadness... grief... and were washed over with relief that their friend's actions were not, once again, his undoing.

Jack peered into his friends' faces, and started to speak. Much to his surprise, he was wrapped in a three way embrace. He tried to back up for a moment, and then acquiesced, only because he was balancing upon one foot... he decided that it was best to let the young ones release the feelings of loss...anxiety... and the feeling of complete understanding of the implications of their own decisions about their lives as pirates.

Finally, the fussing of a newborn baby in the cabin across from the captain's caused them to compose themselves... in keeping their arms about each other for only a moment longer, Elizabeth said, quietly, "In the words of a despicable man who tried to destroy us, a marriage was interrupted, and fate intervened... our marriage was merely interrupted, but it was not destroyed... fate intervened, and guided us all to the right end... away from Port Royal and to our lives aboard the Black Pearl."

Gazing lovingly at her husband and their friend, she gave them both one more affectionate embrace, burying her face deeply in a mix of William's dark, curly hair and the captain's tangled, water dampened braids, "... and to use the words of another pirate captain that shall remain nameless out of respect to our best friend, I would like to request that we put the town to our rudder and 'ne'er return'..."

William softly stroked his wife's golden locks, his eyes closed, as Jack smiled, "Th' request shall be granted, tha's a safe bet, lass..."

A soft knock upon the door caused them all to look up, and Joshamee Gibbs' voice said quietly, "Cap'n, if you're ready, Mr. Cotton's time at th' wheel is up, an' your time at th' helm is nigh..." Jack replied through the door, "Tell Cotton that I'm comin', an' he can go get a plate o' supper in th' galley..."

The young couple helped their captain pull his boot back on, with only a small hiss of pain, and they accompanied him out of his cabin and into the now warmly lit decks before them. The breezes were soft, and the sails were full and dancing lightly. It was always exhilirating to feel the water pass under the Black Pearl's smooth dark hull... caressing her like a lover... a feeling that the Turners loved and knew that they were born to, just as Jack Sparrow was. Port Royal was only the place that they had started this life. The town was devastated ... but they had been, also, at one time... it would come back from devastation, just as they had, but without them to help rebuild it.

"Captain Jack Sparrow," William Turner the Second said, wearily and with great emotion, as he took his friend's shoulders into his hands, " ...thank you for letting us come back here just one more time, to see things for ourselves... now, my friend...bring us that horizen..." The captain smiled slightly, and patted his first mate's shoulder with real affection.

With only the smallest bit of help from his young friends, he hobbled up the stairs to the quarterdeck. The captain took over the wheel, and gave it a hard, determined spin, with the Turners at his side... as the mighty Black Pearl turned her bowsprit out into the dark Caribbean Sea, the churning waters off of her stern pushed Port Royal, Jamaica, out of their lives, and into all of their pasts, forever... for it was a place they would never return to, except to visit the Port Royal that now only existed in their memories...

THE END

۞


	42. The Crewmembers from Singapore

۞

_**Disclaimer: **__Yo ho, yo ho, it's Disney's properteeeee..._

_**Author's note: **__This one takes place directly after my long fic, "Calypso's Hand"! William is free of his captaincy of the Dutchman, and William and Elizabeth are back together, and sailing upon the Pearl with Jack and crew. Drinks and fun all around! Pirate Cat_

۞

Even in this dingy port of Singapore, William Turner the Second was elated. He stood upon the deck of the Black Pearl and drew in a breath so deep that the newly healed wound that stretched across his chest under the tightly bound bandage became a bit pained. He blew the same breath out with the same amount of zeal, as his restored heart beat so strongly against the inside of his ribs that he thought it might burst. It felt so good! Just yesterday, the handsome young man had finally set foot upon the cobblestone street that laid at the bottom of the Pearl's gangplank, and had wobbled upon the land like as if his legs were made of rubber... a sight that Jack Sparrow had enjoyed immensely. William Turner was no longer the captain of the Flying Dutchman... his hard work and dedication had earned his freedom after only a period of months, not years. Calypso had been merciful. He was elated, indeed!

Looking down to the street below, William admired what he saw. Since being released from his duty as the captain of the Flying Dutchman only a few days ago, and being reunited with the love of his life and his pirate friends, William was appreciating new sights, new sounds, even new smells, whether good or bad. They had rescued each other, he and Jack Sparrow, and once Elizabeth was reunited with them, they'd formed a new, strong alliance... the Turners were welcomed aboard the Pearl by her ragtag pirate crew, and were preparing to leave the Orient, and all of its mixed memories, behind them.

In returning to the Far East to rescue Elizabeth and restore William's heart, it was decided to lay over in Singapore for a day or so, supplying the ship for the first leg of the long journey back home to the Caribbean. William did not care where they were going... all that he cared about was that he was with the ones that he loved... and more than anything, he found that he loved to laugh along with those loved ones...

Singapore was agreeing with everyone for this trip, he chuckled to himself. They had made several trips into the marketplaces to see the sights in daylight, and several crewmembers had partaken of many of the exotic shops and merchants that only a seaport such as this could offer... Mr. Ragetti, now the unofficial cook of the Black Pearl, had brought aboard several cartons of wonderful spices to flavor the meager selection of foods that a pirate ship could offer. Not only that, but he proudly sported a real glass eye... one that fit, and did not splinter!

Diminutive Marty, the smallest pirate in the Caribbean (or so he boasted), had traded one of his old pistols for a fine new one, with a dragon shaped barrel and inlaid mother-of-pearl. It was beautifully crafted, and he had managed to steal a real holster for it when the shopkeeper was not looking, simply because his short stature enabled him to simply walk behind the counter unseen, and happily help himself. In demonstrating it to his mates, he had blown himself clear across the foredeck, and it was decided that it was a fine weapon.

The most amusing thing of all was that Mr. Pintel had finally had enough of Captain Sparrow's jibes about how badly he smelled, and had spent an entire day and night in one of Singapore's cleaner bath houses. He had come back to the ship, proudly, with clean clothes, and he, himself, smelled of cloves. Captain Sparrow haughtily maintained that his own fine milled lime scented soaps and hair oil with essence of coconut smelled better, but could not argue that Mr. Pintel cleaned up rather well... or at least cleaned up, somewhat. No one asked what, exactly, he had done at the bath house in a whole day and night, but the results were acceptable.

Joshamee Gibbs had simply gotten happily and roaring drunk on strong Chinese liquor, then came back to the ship with the finest and most painful hangover that he had ever had the opportunity to experience. For some reason, he was truly proud of that one accomplishment.

William was suddenly shaken from his thoughts by the quick footsteps of his beautiful wife hurrying up the gangplank. Elizabeth Swann Turner was scurrying as fast as she could, considering the number of parcels that she held in her arms. The thing that piqued William's interest more than anything was the fact that she was trying very hard not to laugh as she hurried. Looking up, her hazel eyes danced, and she was out of breath.

Extending his hand to help her aboard, William looked at her quizzically and said, "What is it? What are you trying not to laugh about?"

Putting the parcels down upon the deck, Elizabeth replied, "Don't laugh, Will! Please don't laugh! Jack is not in a very good mood, right now... just please don't laugh! Promise me! He might pitch the whole crew off of the ship and leave us all in Singapore!"

No sooner did the words emerge from her mouth, when William looked down upon the subject of Elizabeth's amusement. His eyes widened, and William uttered a wondering, "What the..."

Walking along beside an overly stonefaced Joshamee Gibbs (who was trying valiantly to get over said hangover and not laugh at his captain), was a dourfaced Captain Jack Sparrow, who was being followed, closely and faithfully... by two small, colorful and loudly clucking Chinese chickens.

۞

As the crew gathered about, Jack glowered at all of them. Turning around, he looked at the two small birds who had followed him directly up the gangplank, and who were standing there regarding him... one was a deep red, with a burgundy sheen to her shining long feathers, and her companion was a creamy gold, with trailing collar of long white feathers around her slender little neck. They were obviously an Oriental breed of some sort, but none of the pirate crew was well acquainted with poultry of Singapore... nor had they much desire to be. Least of all, the captain. The two hens patiently waited for Jack to do something.

Jack stared at the pair, then at Gibbs, who cleared his throat and said, "... Cap'n... sir... what do ye plan t' do about..." he pointed at the two visitors, who clucked softly, their shiny bird eyes never leaving the captain.

"I don't know, Mr. Gibbs. I was hoping, as first mate, that _you_ would have a suggestion!" Jack growled through clenched teeth. The crewmen were trying very hard to not even crack a smile, as Jack was obviously in no mood. The only ones that seemed to be undaunted by Jack's vexation were William, and Mr. Cotton's parrot, who observed the newcomers from the lowest yardarm of the main mast. William's face had broken out in a huge grin... the parrot remained silent.

Jack turned to the two little hens, and waved his hands at them, slightly, twitching his mustache and grumbling, "Shoo. Go home." The hens did not move. "Please go home?" Jack continued, politely. No response.

He tried to approach them, in order to shoo them back down the gangplank, and was met by loud cackling. Stepping back in surprise, there was a small start of a chuckle through the crew. Jack's face turned dark once again, and the chuckling stopped.

"Why, might I ask, did they follow you back to the ship?" William asked, his eyes never leaving the two fugitives from the marketplace, as they both ruffled their feathers at the captain, who was glaring back at them.

"I don't know! I was just helping Izzy and Gibbs wif something, an' there they were, looking at me like I was some sort o' god!" Jack shot another warning glance back at the crew, who bit the insides of their cheeks to contain their smiles. Elizabeth spoke up.

"Jack, it was when you were creating a diversion so that we could... 'obtain'... more of the bottles of curry powder and garlic powder for Mr. Ragetti... you were keeping the spicemerchant's attention..."

"Diversion?" William asked, "One of your 'usual' diversions, Jack?" He looked at Jack in amusement, as a smile never left his lips.

Annoyed, Jack said, "Wot do ye mean, a 'usual diversion?" Jack started to throw his arms out in exasperation, his voice raising a bit and his eyes widening. Suddenly, the two little hens flapped their wings and cackled, as they finally gathered around Jack's feet as if he were calling them to his flock.

As they watched the hens look up at Jack with adoring eyes, William finally started to laugh... long and loud. He put his hand over his bandaged chest and completely lost his composure... and this was all that it took.

Laughter burst out among Elizabeth and the crew, and they didn't even quite understand why they were laughing... as William gasped for air, he wiped his eyes with his hands and exclaimed, "Jack! When you create a diversion, you look as though you _strut_ and you sound like you _crow_, and you wave your hands about like as if they were _wings_... these two have fallen in love with you! They think that you are a ROOSTER!"

As Jack Sparrow turned bright red with embarassment, William leaned back against the railing and was overcome with mirth, as the rest of the crew laughed with him.

۞

Once the laughter had been quite thoroughly stifled by an indignant gunshot in the air from Jack Sparrow's pistol, the captain turned to a still chuckling William and thundered, "So! You're so damn smart... as th' former captain o' th' Flyin' Dutchman, YOU tell them t' go home!"

William put his hand over his sore, bandaged chest, and tried valiantly to compose himself. "They are _hens_, Jack. I learned many things upon the Dutchman, but speaking 'hen' was not one of them."

William and Elizabeth looked at the captain, earnestly, their eyes imploring him to see the humour in the situation. Seeing this, Jack looked at his young friends ... and realized, then, that he _was _being just a bit too touchy about the present dilemma that had unfolded itself.

"Well, William, I do not view meself as a rooster," Jack mused, but he brightened a bit, and added, "... but who am I to argue anyone, even hens, fallin' in love wif me, eh?" Elizabeth looked at him disdainfully, and William smirked a bit at the captain.

As Jack cleared his throat, he glanced at the onlooking crew, then said, "Do ye s'pose they only understand 'hen'? Spanish, perhaps? French?" Staring down his nose at the hens, he sniffed and said, "Parlez-vous francais?"

They all turned to regard the two little hens, who had both fluffed out their volumes of exotic long feathers and were now sunning themselves by sitting quietly on the warm deckboards. Their eyes still watched the captain.. they did not make a sound.

"I don't think that they would understand Spanish, French, or Irish Gaelic, Jack..." Elizabeth bit her lip at the captain's pout. It was his opinon that everyone should speak Gaelic. Elizabeth continued, her hands on her hips, "... we are in Singapore, but I really doubt that they even understand Chinese."

During her captaincy upon the Empress, and during her long stay upon the island in the China Sea, prior to being reunited with her husband and friends, Elizabeth had learned some phrases in several Chinese dialects. She leaned down and kindly spoke a few words to the hens... who showed no reaction. Looking back at Jack, Elizabeth shrugged helplessly.

It was then that Mr. Ragetti spoke up, a bit shyly, raising his hand slightly. He was most in awe of the captain, a bit intimidated, as it were, but was somewhat more confident since Jack had accompanied him to obtain his new glass eye in a shop that the captain knew about upon a Singapore back street. "... if I might make a suggestion, cap'n?"

Jack and the Turners turned to him, and Jack wondered which eye to look at. Rags continued, wringing his hands a bit, "... why don't we jus' keep 'em, Cap'n Jack? We could 'ave fresh eggs, sir... they wouldn't be any trouble... cap'n, sir... an' they're kind o' pretty, really..." Mr. Ragetti urged, stuttering nervously.

As if they could understand, the two subjects of conversation began to preen themselves.

Jack's eyes widened as he watched them do this, and he leaned back for a moment... glancing at the Turners, who were thinking this over and nodding enthusiastically, Jack looked at Mr. Gibbs, who was still recovering from his Singaporan hangover by rubbing his bleary eyes, and said, "Mr. Gibbs... could we, perhaps, find materials t' build some nesting boxes down in th' hold?" Jack tilted his head and waited for an answer, his hands resting languidly on the hilt of his sword.

Gibbs thought it over, and in a low voice so as not to aggravate the hammers that were building nesting boxes inside of his head, he replied, "I think that we have some wood scraps in the brig, cap'n... we have bales o' fresh straw tha' we could line 'em with... what do chickens eat, sir?" The thought of eating made him feel a bit sick, but it needed to be addressed, Gibbs reasoned..

"Corn." Jack said firmly. "We shall have t' go back t' th' marketplace an' obtain a ration o' corn. They eat corn, an'..."

... suddenly, as he was rather given to do, his eyes went blank and his wavering hands were stopped in midair... the Turners noticed this, and came forward with concern... an hallucination was overtaking him, as he was rather given to since being rescued from the Locker that had affected his mind so badly... he closed his eyes, and his hands went vaguely to his head for a moment... the crew murmered with a bit of trepidation, as there was no telling what would happen when the captain had one of his "spells"...

_"... eggs... chicken?..."_ He was being overcome with a rather disconcerting visual that had left him quite shaken at the time that it had happened before. A visual of himself, clucking... and laying an egg_! "...Then there was a goat, and..."._

As William and Elizabeth each took one of his arms with worry, Jack shook himself all over so hard that every trinket upon his person rang like a small jingling bell. He mysteriously rubbed his rear end a bit, his dark owl-like eyes unfocused and struggling to look around, clearly. The Turners stared searchingly at him.

"Oooo... I hate when that happens... ye'd think I was mad, or something..." Jack grumbled, as he nodded reassuringly at William and Elizabeth, who were still watching him closely.

The captain looked down upon the pair of hens, who had stopped preening and were looking up at him, expectantly. William's face eased into a look of relief, as Jack was acting a bit more normal... which was a stretch for his friend, in any case.

Seeing that every member of the crew was still raptly watching their captain, Jack had finally had enough. "_All o' ye! Back t' work! Be quick about it, we are settin' sail tomorrow mornin' an' th' Caribbean waits for us_!" Jack barked out the orders in his husky voice... as the crewmen scrambled back to their duties, still glancing over their shoulder with curiosity, the hens stood straight up, as if being called to attention, themselves.

Blinking hard and twiddling his bejeweled fingers in the air a bit, he looked at his young friends, and said, "Well, mates, if we can't get our little acquaintances, here, t' go home, maybe we can give 'em a proper welcome, savvy?"

Glancing sideways at the Turners, Jack threw his head back proudly, and, addressing the hens... the captain began to softly ... cluck! "_Buckbuckbuckbaaawwwwk..."_

The little hens excitedly began to squawk and cackle loudly, flapping their wings so hard it was almost believable that they might join Mr. Cotton's parrot up on the yardarm. Alarmed, the parrot took off to find Cotton.

Jack turned to his highly amused companions, and winked... "I don't know wot th' hell I just said, but I think I jus' made friends wif 'em!" He shrugged and turned back to the excited little duo.

Once again, stifling their laughter, William and Elizabeth watched as the greatest pirate who had ever lived leaned over at the waist and said, "Now, listen up, ye two swabbies... _Do you have the courage and fortitude to stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death?"_

The hens ignored the swearing in... they were affectionately running all around and in between the captain's booted feet, clucking, with little bits of feathers and down floating all about them. The captain reached down, and daintily scratched the red hen upon her soft head. She closed her eyes and leaned into his fingers. The Turners' mouths dropped open in amazement.

Jack straightened up, twitched his mustache and stated, "Very well, ladies. Welcome t' the crew o' th' Black Pearl. Follow me, please_... buckbuckbuck...baawwwwk."_

As he fluttered his hands toward the Turners with great ceremony, the young couple, arm in arm, stepped back to let the captain and two new crewmembers pass, in order to proceed down into the hold of the ship. William could not help himself as he watched Jack lead his little parade, clucking softly to his new "pets"... William burst into laughter, again, holding his pained chest with one hand and pointing at Jack with the other. Elizabeth had her hand firmly clasped over her mouth, trying to laugh politely. William, however, just could not help himself...

Turning to face the young couple, Jack tossed his head back and said, with a sparkle in his eye and a smile tugging at his mustache, " ... for _that_ sort of outburst, Mr. Turner, there will be NO omelette for you in the morning!" ...and turning back to the hens, who stared up at him, lovingly, the captain said, "Scarlett... Gisele... may I show you to your new accomodations?"

With sweeping hands and great fanfare, Jack and the two hens disappeared down into the hold, with the captain muttering and clucking all the way, "... this way, dearies... we shall have yer new kips set up in no time... _buckbuckbuck_...Awww, now tha's two nice little hens... you'll like it here!...See? Look! ...Mr. Gibbs is already makin' nice nestin' boxes for ye...an' him wif a hangover, too! I'll tell ye, ladies, I likes th' two o' you better'n an undead monkey for a pet, as, to me knowledge, undead monkeys can't lay eggs... an' you two followin' me around beats rocks that turn into crabs... _buckbuckbuck _t' you, too, darling..."

Shaking his head in amusement, William did not care if he missed out upon an omelette for breakfast. Elizabeth also laughed merrily, put her arms around her husband, and embraced him tightly ... William had not laughed like this in a very long time. William could feel his restored heart beating within his bandaged ribs, where it belonged... thanks to the very odd, good man that had just led a parade of poultry below to the hold.

Omelettes could wait for another morning, if that be the punishment for his happiness. He and Elizabeth were together, heading back to the Caribbean with their friends, and even if his last name was 'Sparrow', it was a revelation to find out that their strutting, crowing, proud captain could muddle his way through speaking 'hen' to the two new crewmembers from Singapore, after all!

THE END

۞


	43. The Wind, Chapter One

Disclaimer: No, they are not mine... oh, but if they were...

**Author's Note: **As always, William is released from his curse, with conditions, and he and Elizabeth are a part of Jack's crew aboard the Pearl. That's how it is in Pirate Cat's lovely universe.

۞

Elizabeth Swann Turner looked out over the velvety nighttime sea, as the soft salt winds off of the waters blew her golden hair back from her face. The stars were out tonight, and the moon was a fingernail sliver, skirting in and out of wispy clouds. The weather had been fair, but the mood aboard the ship upon this day had been rather quiet. Captain Jack Sparrow had experienced one of his worst days since being rescued from the Locker... and had not moved from his place clear out upon the bowsprit all day long. His lanky legs were curled around the sprit... the only appendages keeping him from falling headlong into the sea.

It was more than a bit frightening for the crew when Jack fought the shadows in his damaged mind on days such as this... he would lapse into an unusual state... eyes vague and distant.. long silences except for soft talking to himself, now and again... and the most telling sign of all when he was suffering from his bouts of mild madness was a slow weaving of his head, to and fro, to and fro... often he would stand at the railing and look out to sea, his eyes unfocused or closed completely, his hands outstretched at his sides, long, slender fingers moving ever so lightly in the wind, as if he were listening to something in the wind... the constant wind at sea.

Elizabeth and her husband, First Mate William Turner the Second, had made it one of their priorities to watch their friend very closely after joining the crew of the Pearl. They had sadly realized after his rescue from the Locker that Jack was their true friend, but the damaging cracks hammered into Jack's sanity by Davy Jones were to haunt their captain's mind forever... He had very long stretches of time when he was perfectly normal... or as normal as Jack Sparrow ever was... but it was days like this one that worried the Turners and the other crewmembers deeply...

... and as she watched Jack's back from the foredeck upon this evening, Elizabeth knew that William would soon climb out upon the bowsprit himself, and guide the captain back to safety, to rum and his own bunk... all the while, the captain would not utter a word, and Elizabeth could not help but wonder just what it was that the captain seemed to hear, upon the everpresent wind...

۞

"How is he?" Elizabeth had waited for William as he emerged from Jack's cabin... the tall, handsome young first mate had finally gotten the captain to settle into the safety of his bunk, a bottle of rum nestled into his thin elbow and a blanket pulled up over him. William smiled at his wife, as he admired her loveliness by the lanternlight. She was holding Little Will to her breast, a sight that was a common one to the other crewmembers since the littlest pirate had been born upon the Black Pearl only two months before. William sat down next to her, putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling his small family close to him. His time as captain of the Flying Dutchman, and the seperation from his loved ones made him truly appreciate his world, now... the man who was the most responsible for this world was finally snoring softly in the cabin behind them.

"He is fine... he had one bad day, like this, when he was upon the Dutchman after we found him sailing along in his little wooden dinghy... we simply have to keep an eye upon him and let him fight his way back to us when the shadows in his mind finally let go for a while..." William sighed, breathing in the scent of lavender from Elizabeth's hair... "Jack seemed to try to come around just before I finally convinced him to get some sleep. He said something rather odd, even for him..."

Elizabeth turned to her husband as she placed Little Will upon her shoulder, patting his tiny back to try to bring up a bubble. The young couple chuckled a bit as the wee baby obliged, burping ever so slightly. "I worry about Jack so much when he is like this... what did he say?"

William frowned slightly..."He said that we will make a strike tomorrow. He said that we are in a shipping lane, and that there will be a good raid in store for us... " He looked deeply into his wife's eyes, as she also frowned slightly..." ... he said that the wind told him..."

۞

With Giles Mullroy at the wheel and Mr. Cotton being assigned to take Jack's turn at midnight, the young couple sat quietly upon the main deck for while, prior to retiring for the night. Keeping watch upon their captain for the entire day had taken a toll upon all of them... Jack Sparrow was the finest captain that any of them had ever sailed with, and his crew was genuinely fond of him. Joshamee Gibbs had known him longer than anyone, and before he, himself, retired to his hammock for the night, he poured drinks for himself and the Turners in order to finally relax them all, knowing that Jack was no longer threatening to drop into watery oblivion from the bowsprit. Gibbs stretched a bit in his chair, his grizzled face finally softening from the worried lines of only a few hours ago. "... Leave it to Jack to say something as odd as he did, Will. I will always wonder what turns his mind makes when he can't shake off the shadows..."

Elizabeth was looking up at the vast and deep expanse of stars, and she leaned into William's muscled side, nestling their baby in her arms. Suddenly, she said, "Will, where did you take all of the souls who died at sea...?"

William turned his head and stared at his wife. This had never, ever been addressed since William and Elizabeth had been reunited. Gibbs' eyes grew wide as he raised his mug of rum to his lips. William thought long and hard before he answered her, and he answered her much like Jack would... "Different places."

Elizabeth continued to stare at the stars... "I wonder..." she said, softly, as her hand softly caressed the soft brown curls upon her baby's head, "... I wonder if my father knows that he has a beautiful grandson... when I was little, he would always show me the pocket watch that he carried. It was made of gold, with a face made of elephant tusk ivory... it was presented to him by the King when he was appointed to the office of Governor of Jamaica... he always had promised it to my first child... his first grandchild... I wish that I could tell him that he has a grandson... I wonder if he knows..."

As the trio sat quietly thinking this over, the captain's soft snoring could be heard through his slightly open cabin door...

۞

Jack had been right... at dawn of the following morning, a ship was spotted upon the farthest horizen ... a galleon of unknown origin to the naked eye. But the well developed pirate eyes of William Turner and Jack Sparrow knew, by one glance through a spyglass, some good honest pirating was at hand. Jack was his old self upon this morning, and was grinning widely as he handed the spyglass to Elizabeth. Peering at their quarry, her face broke into a wicked smile, as she said, with relish, "... ahhhh... a vessel of the East India Trading Company... and she is unaccompanied by a naval ship... what nerve!"

Jack chuckled softly, as William said, "... it seems that she is heading east... toward England, no doubt, filled with a hold of the spoils of the Caribbean. Hmmmm," he grinned at Jack, who regarded him with a sidelong look, his eyes sparkling. William tapped his light blue bandana as if he were thinking, and smiled, "I wonder if she is carrying any _good_ Caribbean rum?"

"Among other things, mate..." Jack replied, his mouth nearly watering at the thought of the wondrous things that might be contained in the distant hold, "... I think that we should see about putting yet another little dent in th' East India Trading Company's profit ledger, eh?"

And as she thought bitterly about her father's murder, Elizabeth Swann Turner said, softly, "The East India Trading Company is responsible for nearly ruining all of our lives, starting with yours, Jack..." she slipped an arm around the captain's back, running a hand over his shoulder blades that bore the deep scars of an EITC flogging.

With a hard edge to her voice, and a hard glint in her eyes, she murmured, "I shall never see the colours of the East India Trading Company that I will not see my father's blood, as well as our own... my father was denied his right of seeing his beautiful grandson..."

Turning to look at both of the proud faces regarding her as she spoke, the former captain of the Empress almost spat our her words, "Let's take them."

_To be concluded with chapter 2..._

۞


	44. The Wind, Chapter Two

The take had been an easy one... the ship that was christened The Conqueror was instead the vanquished, as the Black Pearl easily overtook her and set her crew adrift in the ship's own longboats, without much ado. The many ships of the EITC had heard the unbelievable stories of the events at World's End, and the terror that a pirate ship with black sails struck into the heart of any sailor who crewed an EITC ship was deep.

The Conqueror was a smaller ship, and slower, and she never even opened her gun ports toward the pirate ship that had so boldly blocked her path, with 18 of her 36 cannons pointing straight at her. She was boarded without a struggle... indeed, the pirate captain, who was actually shorter and slighter of build than anyone expected him to be, loudly complained that this raid was no fun at all... he had then decided to put the crew off, plunder the ship thoroughly, and then to send her to the depths, just for entertainment purposes.

It was then that the chubby and absolutely livid captain of the privateer vessel voiced his own loud complaint, with some ungentlemanly epithets launched at the dark skinned pirate captain, who only grinned back at him in a very cheeky and annoying manner. His complaints were silenced by a very strong, but surprisingly feminine arm locking him in a chokehold from behind, and a very businesslike dagger being pointed at his right eye. The first mate of the Black Pearl smiled at the angry and unladylike assailant... who tightened her grip.

As the crew filed into the longboats under the watchful eyes and taunts of what the EITC considered filthy riffraff, one brave man attempted to pull his cutlass prior to surrendering his weapon, only to be met by two flashing blades pulled from their scabbards in exact unison and pointed straight at his heart... and the low voice of the young first mate, saying, "Make it easy on yourself, mate... " The cutlass was dropped to the deck with a clatter, as he had never seen a captain and first mate who were so uncannily able to predict each other's movements.

The longboats were lowered to set the cowering crew adrift. "You scoundrel, Jack Sparrow! How dare you!" the captain of the Conqueror was indignant, as he stood up in the rocking longboat and shook his fist vehemently at the slender figure who was now grinning impudently at him from the railing of the Pearl. The pirate captain's tall, muscular first mate teased him by shaking a fist back at him.

"Oh, shut it, ye bloody git... you're in a shipping lane... you'll be found within a couple o' days. At least you have a longboat... for a while, I only had a leaky dinghy until me first mate found me...did I remember t' tell ye that William Turner the Second, here, was th' captain o' th' Flyin' Dutchman at th' time?" Jack casually leaned an arm on William's shoulder... the younger man was enjoying this immensely.

"... An' meself! I was in Davy Jones' Locker, 'til me mates pulled me an' me Pearl back t' th' land o' th' living, or sea o' th' living, as it were! You've been plundered by two _dead _men, mates..."

William always enjoyed the reaction that fetched, and he nodded grimly toward the now trembling EITC crew.

Turning to say something to William, Jack suddenly turned back to the chubby captain, who was still sputtering, and said, archly, one finger raised as punctuation,"...oh, and that's 'You scoundrel, _CAPTAIN_ Jack Sparrow... why is that so bloody hard t' remember?" he growled.

"Because they're fools," William muttered in reply.

۞

Once the Conqueror was scuttled and her crew left bobbling in the longboats with a few days' rations and some water, Jack, Elizabeth and William inspected the plunder that, by now, had been lowered in nets down into the hold. There was not much treasure of monetary value, but there was a great deal of "treasure" of another kind... barrels of food and medical supplies, gunpowder, guns, plenty of jerked beef , along with hardtack, salt pork, "good" Caribbean rum, as William had hoped, and some barrels and crates with unknown contents. Jack had ordered these mysterious objects brought on board, hoping that there might be something of value that could be traded for profit in the more illicit parts of the Caribbean.

As Elizabeth brought Little Will down into the hold in his basket, William and Jack were deciding what should be opened first. "Wot say you, Izzy?" Jack shrugged, as he swiveled his trinketed head around to her. Putting the basket with the gurgling baby down, she looked about. She always had to fight back a great deal of anger as they plundered ships of the East India Trading Company, and it brought her grim pleasure to view the spoils of a raid. Today, however, she felt quite strange about it... like as if it was not a raid of the usual kind of treasure that a pirate would seek.

Walking around the numerous crates, she ran her hand over each one, as William and Jack watched her, now with a great deal of curiosity. Stopping at one large box, she quietly said, "This one..." Looking at each other, William and Jack wondered about the look in Elizabeth's eyes...

They approached the crate with prybars... and were immediately aware of a very strange feeling... the wind was picking up above decks, and it seemed to hum against the hull. Jack turned his head slightly, as William suddenly looked concerned. Even Little Will was quiet.

"Jack...?" Elizabeth looked at the captain, who was standing stock still, prybar at the ready, but not moving. His dark eyes looked upward to the sky through the opening of the hold, and he said nothing... he only nodded. William put down his prybar and immediately took Jack by the shoulders, "Mate?"

Shaking his head a little as if to clear it, Jack's eyebrows shot up and he twitched his mustache, slightly. "Aye?"

Relieved, William picked up his prybar, watching Jack out of the corner of his eye, and as Jack helped him, and as Elizabeth stood by, they pulled the lid from the crate and peered inside...

Their mouths dropped open slightly, as Elizabeth's hand covered her mouth... inside the barrel, were personal effects that had obviously been in storage for quite some time...

There were several reams of legal documents, an ornate brass desk set with a crystal inkwell and matching candlesticks for a mantel, several framed documents and commendations, and several very elaborote writing quills. One object suddenly made their very hearts leap into their throats.

They all solemnly looked at each other... William reached into the barrel and carefully pulled out a long fireplace poker... a poker with an iron brand upon the end. As Jack Sparrow's eyes widened, he involuntarily took a step back and put his hand over the stark white "P" that had been burned deeply into the flesh of his arm to the point that it had nearly crippled his right hand.

And as Elizabeth Swann Turner's face twisted with rage and grief, her trembling hand pulled an object out of a box of sealing wax that had tumbled over, as if it had been carelessly tossed into the crate ...

As William's face looked on in astonishment, Jack's eyes went closed halfway, and became strangely distant. Gripped in Elizabeth's shaking hand was a gold watch, with an elephant tusk ivory face, engraved upon the back with the words, "In Honour of the Appointment of Weatherby Swann to the High Office of Governor of Jamaica"... with the engraved seal of the King of England. A small bit of icy victory for a murderer now long dead at the hands and the cannons of the trio standing together in the hold of the Black Pearl... a watch that was no doubt brought back to him by his henchmen as some proof that the governor was no more.

"Salvaged from th' wreckage, no doubt..." Jack muttered, "... an' cleaned out from an office in Port Royal..."

As William Turner pulled his weeping wife into his arms, the gold watch in her hand, he whispered through clenched teeth, "Cutler Beckett... you cold, cold bastard..."

۞

Night fell, and William finally was able to convince his grieving wife to come out onto the deck for some fresh air. Little Will had been put to bed, lulled to sleep by the ticking of the beautiful gold watch that was laying in his cradle...ticking that was like the soothing heartbeat of a doting grandfather.

Clutching a handkerchief, and wrapped in her husband's arms, Elizabeth finally swallowed hard as she and William sat down in the pool of golden lamplight with their captain, who did not have his boots propped up on the railing as he would do, customarily. He was simply sitting at the table with a mug of rum in his hands, his dark eyes fixed out over the railing, watching the dark sea as it rolled and pitched... there was a storm somewhere. The branding iron was nowhere in sight...

As the young couple sat down, he glanced their way, and smiled a little. "So Little Whelpie has the gold watch that is his birthright?" Elizabeth nodded wordlessly, as William stroked her cheek, softly.

Looking over at the captain, William said, "I made another discovery in another crate, Jack... we managed to bring aboard some fine wine... the captain of the Conqueror had expensive taste..." Jack gave his first mate a lopsided grin, and replied, "Well, wot's stoppin' ye, mate? Bring forth a bottle of said 'fine wine', savvy?" Smiling sadly at Elizabeth, the captain said, "... Let's drink t' th' memory of Governor Swann..."

"Will you be alright for a moment, my love?" William asked, comfortingly, as Elizabeth smiled up at him and nodded. She already was feeling better with the bracing and salty wind in her face... the constant wind..."I will be quick, then...," and William disappeared into the hold, momentarily.

As she looked back at Jack, she saw that his gaze had returned to the darkness across the sea, his bronzed gypsy face reflecting the moonlight off of the rolling waves. Finally summoning enough courage to approach the captain with a question, she said, "Jack... what did you do with the branding iron?"

Silently, the captain reached into his pocket and pulled out the end of the iron... the letter "P"... he idly placed it over the burn upon his upper wrist. It fit perfectly, balanced upon the raised, angry scar... a scar that still pained him from time to time if his arm was stretched the wrong way.

Elizabeth shuddered deeply as he merely stared at it with half closed eyes... Those brown eyes misted over a bit, then turned to gaze back over the waves. "I'm going to add it to me bandana, I think... next to the Kraken tooth.."

Finding herself dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief, Elizabeth reached over and removed the iron from Jack's arm, gently placing it back into his slender hand and then closing it, patting his hand as she did so, "... And raiding the Conqueror was not done by chance today, was it, Jack?"

Jack got up from his chair, his eyes never leaving the sea. With his back to Elizabeth, the enigmatic reply in the captain's soft, rum husky voice was, "... no, darling, it wasn't chance... your father knows about 'is beautiful grandson... one just really needs t' listen to th' wind, sometimes..."

The captain's slender fingers moved ever so slightly, "... your father knows... an' he loves you..."

Just then, amazingly, a warm and comforting Caribbean wind blew across the main deck... and the lantern's flame lightly flickered in the wind...

...the wind... the constant wind at sea, that only one man, in his endearing bouts of madness, could completely listen to with more clarity than anyone else... perhaps it was madness... or perhaps it was simply that the wind at sea, itself, chose very, very carefully who it would reveal its secrets to...

Sometimes, the wind might think, madmen were better listeners than those whose minds were addled with reason...

THE END


	45. The Earl and The Duke

_**Disclaimer: **I sneaks them away from Disney now and then, just for a bit of fun...but I always return them... until the next time..._

_**Author's note: **Same old thing... in Pirate Cat's lovely universe, William is released from his curse with certain conditions, and he and Elizabeth sail with Jack as crewmembers... AND AWE IS BACK IN OUR THEATER FOR ONE MORE WEEK... I feel inspiration coming on! Drinks all around! _

۞

"William! Look at wot I found!"

Captain Jack Sparrow's face lit up with glee, as he and his first mate, William Turner the Second, were inspecting the contents of yet another crate from an East India Trading Company galleon that they had recently ransacked. The hold of said vessel had contained many unmarked crates and barrels, and they had found many items of dubious value, which had been pitched overboard with disappointment, but Jack's find at hand was valuable, indeed.

It was a complete deck of playing cards... something that was possessed only by the very wealthy and affluent, and this one was a deck of highest quality... the colours were bright and the images very crisp. Newly printed and a wondrous find, indeed.

William's eyebrows shot up, and then his face also split into a wide grin. "My my! The captain of that ship certainly had highbrow taste for an employee of the EITC!"

Riffling the cards in his deft hands, Jack chuckled and replied, "He had to 'ave been juggling th' books an' pocketing some o' th' profit. Take it from one who knows. Hmmmm... shall we save this an' try t' sell it, or..."

William shook his head. "I think that we shall save it... and keep it! It will be our secret, Jack!" The smiles of guilty pleasure broke out upon both faces, as they pulled up barrels to a large crate, and began to deal a game of "All Fours"...

During the game, William looked up at Jack mischieviously and said, in an offhand manner, "Did you know that the 'Knave' was originally called the 'Jack' in a deck of playing cards?"

The captain was rearranging his hand and said, "... a 'Jack' is a better name, although I know of several Jacks that have been knaves... meself included... why do they call it a 'Knave', now, and not a 'Jack', I wonder..." He stopped twiddling with his cards for a moment, and thought about it.

William pursed his lips, as he rearranged his own hand. "Well, it is because it is thought in 'high society' that being called a 'Jack' is rather vulger..."

Jack's eyes popped and he looked at William, almost hurt. "Why would it be vulger?" he asked defensively, "It's jus' as good a name t' be called as a William, or even a bloody James!"

William decided to goad his best friend even a bit further..."Well, have you ever heard of a 'King Jack'? There have been King Georges, King Johns, King James..."

"Have there ever been any King Williams?" was the rather miffed retort. The game progressed, as Jack bent forward to get William's attention, pouting, "Well? Have there been any King Williams?"

"In Germany, there have been King Wilhelms... it's the same thing... Oh look! I win!" As William pulled all of the cards toward himself with a chuckle, Jack looked completely befuddled and cried out, "How did ye do that? Ye cheated!"

William looked up from under the edge of his pale blue bandana, and chuckled, "I didn't follow the rules of engagement, that's all... you should know that I stopped that a long time ago, Jack!"

۞

Jack and William were completely unaware that they were being watched by a pair of very amused hazel eyes. It was very hard not to laugh, as it seemed that the captain and his first mate were having quite a bit of fun, and very much at the expense of the higher class of society that had taken its toll upon the pride of a half-gypsy bastard son of a pirate, and a lowly, rough handed blacksmith's apprentice, who found out later that he bore pirate blood. Niether of them had any use for any aristocratic airs, although one of them had a higher tolerance level for such airs than the other, out of loving deference to the woman who was now his wife.

Apparantly the captain and his first mate had laid their hands upon a complete deck of very expensive playing cards, she thought... it was something that neither of them had probably ever had the chance to use in their lives. A full deck of highest quality, she noted...

Not only that, Elizabeth noticed, but there had also been an extremely expensive silver tea service among the items that were found aboard the EITC ship, and it looked as though her two men were having quite the little party! She settled back into the shadows, to watch the daft pair having a quite the conversation as they kept drinking more 'tea'...

Sniffing loudly, Jack said," Oh, I say, Duke! Do please deal another hand, whilst I pour another cup of 'tea' for both of us..." the captain daintily picked up the serving pot, with a finger lightly holding the lid still, pouring a dark liquid into a delicate cup for his tall companion. Jack took great care to stick out his pinky fingers. Elizabeth stifled a laugh as Jack spilled a bit over into William's saucer.

Looking up from shuffling the cards, William stuck his nose up in the air, and curled his upper lip into what seemed to be a sneering smile, "Oh... _thank yew_, 'Earl'... I should be more than delighted to deal a new game for the two of us... I am so glad that we dispensed with playing the _low class _game of 'All Hands'..." Jack batted his eyes at the reference, as William continued. "... it is much more... oh, dear me, what is the word that I am searching for?... ah yes, _amusing_... to make up our own game with our own rules...that is what the upper crust does, after all... we make up our own games of life, with our own rules... I dare say that those scurvy pirates do the same thing..."

"Pirates? Oooo, those nasty rapscallions!" Jack eyes rolled with mock distaste... his hat was even more crooked than usual.

"One lump or two, 'Duke'?" Jack offered imaginary lumps of sugar, as Elizabeth clasped her hand over her mouth hard. William stuck his nose even further up in the air, and shook his head lightly, "Oh, none for me, thank _yew_..." William fluttered a hand, dismissively, as Jack would do, "... sugar in one's libation reminds me of someone whom I cannot abide... Lord Beckett always took his libation that way..."

Jack rolled his eyes, and placed his hand upon his heart, as if faint, "Oh my... that terrible man..." his husky voice grew a bit squeeky, "... I was shocked, _utterly shocked_, to hear about what happened to him, although I must admit that his opponents must have been the most clever, brave... should I say it... _best _men that ever sailed... " Jack was enunciating his words so hard that it looked as though his mouth hurt. English was hard enough for him, as it was not his first language... trying to speak like an aristocrat looked nearly painful!

"Ooooh, 'best men that ever sailed'. I say, 'Earl', I do agree completely with that, in spite of those men being pirates..." William wrinkled up his nose, and Jack followed suit and nodded.

William continued, "However, Lord Beckett's demise certainly gave us more to gossip about than the governor's daughter becoming involved with... oh heaven forbid... a _blacksmith_! ... oh, pardon me... snuff?" William opened what might have been a snuff box in his palm, if there had been one there.

"I don't mind if I do, 'Duke'..." Jack reached over with his long, slender fingers as if to take a pinch of imaginary snuff, and might have been sprinkling it upon his mustache. William tried not to laugh as Jack screwed up his face and sneezed, accordingly.

Using the end of his sash as a handkerchief, the captain dabbed at his small nose very snobbishly, and said, "Good snuff, my man... of the highest quality. Guaranteed to provoke a most elegant sneeze... not a sloppy sneeze, like blacksmiths or pirates..."

"Thank _yew_! It is ridiculously expensive snuff," William smiled tightly, as if something sour was in his mouth. Oh, how many times had Elizabeth seen this scene acted out by those who truly thought that they were so much better than everyone else. In another lifetime, she might have felt a bit insulted... in this lifetime, she was highly amused.

This went on, until the light of the lantern dangling above their heads began to dim for lack of oil. Disappointed, the pair decided that it was time to go above deck to attend to other duties. Elizabeth pushed herself deeply into the shadows, as William and Jack got up from their card game.

Sipping the last of their spiced rum "tea", they bowed deeply, and rather foppishly, to each other. "It has been a frightfully entertaining repast in your presence, 'Earl of the Black Pearl'. I hope that we shall partake of such another round of '_Our Own Bloody Card Game Wif Our Own Bloody Rules' _again, sometime!' William sniffed imperiously.

And as Jack removed his hat and bowed deeply ... and unsteadily... from his waist, again, his beaded dreadlocks nearly sweeping the floorboards, he swept his arms to his sides, and replied, in a high tone... "Undoubtedly, mate...nonono, not 'mate'... I mean, 'Duke of the Flying Dutchman'...it was a delightful 'tea' party... after you..." and he swept an arm up the stairs, and hiccuped a little.

"Oh no, I insist, after _you_..." William nodded, sweeping his arm just as grandly... he, himself, was a bit wobbly on his feet.

Jack sashayed lightly up the steps, with William behind him, tripping only once. Jack was fluttering his hands and saying, "Oh, and let's bring a great deal more 'tea' wif us... I mean '_with_ us'... the next time, 'Duke of the Flying Dutchman'...the 'tea' was just smashing, served in the new tea set..."

"Oh, yes, 'Earl of the Black Pearl', I agree, completely... more 'tea'..."

And with that, as Elizabeth finally was able to giggle, "The Earl" and "The Duke" disappeared above deck, holding each other up a bit (they had partaken of a great deal of 'tea'), after having made sure that their precious playing cards were hidden away from all eyes, in the hull of the mighty Black Pearl...

Elizabeth was certain, she decided, that she would always make sure that the deck of cards would remain undisturbed in its secret hiding place for the two that she loved the most... the only aristocracy in her world, now..."The Earl of the Black Pearl", and "The Duke of the Flying Dutchman".

۞


	46. Tiny Chips of the Truth

_**Dislaimer: **__If they were mine, I would be enjoying my own theme park. _

_**Author's note: **__In my fics, William is released from the Dutchman with certain conditions, and he and Elizabeth sail on the Black Pearl with Jack... who needs their help more than he will ever admit! _

_I saw "At World's End" for the 11th time, yesterday... one scene, in particular, inspired this one shot. Pirate Cat_

۞

The moon was high in the sky as the mighty Black Pearl glided through the calm waters of the Atlantic. The sky was a deep indigo blue and the air all about them smelled of autumn along the coast of the North American colonies. Once in a great while, the smell of wood smoke reminded the two men who were lounging upon the deck in the lantern light that the settlements were expanding... along with the British Empire...encroaching... making the world a smaller place... the thought that both of them would treat with disdain, if they gave it any thought at all.

It was rare that the Black Pearl made a journey this far north at this time of the year, and the only reason that they made the trip was to simply enjoy a colourful autumn change of scenery for a few days. Things had become a bit dicey in the Caribbean since an uprising of the local folk had brought in more vessels of the Royal Navy, and the Black Pearl's captain and crew decided to sail north and enjoy some peace and quiet until things settled down.

William Turner the Second was sharpening his small dagger with a whetstone, rhythmically and steadily stroking the blade, and polishing the ivory handle with a soft cloth. His father's dagger, which was always tucked in his sash or into the top of his black sea boot. His handsome face was serene, his long curly brown hair blowing about his face under its blue bandana... He was one of the most content men in the world upon this evening... his love, his soul mate, his wife had just gone to their snug cabin to put their baby son, Little Will, to bed in his own warm cradle. William could hear his wife's soft lullaby through the slightly open door...

His peculiar companion seemed to be equally content. His own booted feet were propped up on a crate, his lanky legs crossed at the ankle. His dark bronzed face was a study of concentration, his tongue stuck in the corner of his mouth, as he turned a piece of exotic and rare wood over and over in his slender, be-ringed hands. He had a small knife of his own... not one that was ever used as a weapon, but one that was used expressly for creating from the most common element that a pirate could obtain. Whittling was a useful pastime for keeping one's hands limber and strong, but surprisingly, Captain Jack Sparrow was a talented artist in the medium of woodcarving.

Stopping his own toil for a few moments, William sat back in his chair and watched his captain's deft movements with the small blade. "Be careful, Jack... remember, I just sharpened that... don't cut yourself...what are you making, anyway? The wood smells good, like incense..."

Jack smiled a bit as his dark eyes never left the object in his hands. He kept working, tiny, miniscule chips flying to and fro, landing in Jack's lap, hair and even in William's lap. "No worries, William... an' it's sandalwood from India," was the only reply.

"I see... you must have traded for it in Saint Kitts, eh? By the way...Jack?"

"Aye, whelp?"

William pondered upon something that he had wondered about for some time... nothing important, as far as pirating went, or as far as anything went, but something that had puzzled him ever since he and the captain had met, over four years ago, now.

"Jack," he started, again, "... I have a really silly question for you."

Jack kept whittling, turning his head back and forth, his tongue going to the other corner of his mouth, his eyebrows coming together in a slight frown, as he said, "I'm waitin'." The captain's gold teeth glittered in the lamplight, "... I'll be th' judge o' whether or not its a silly question..."

William ran a hand over the large scar upon his chest, then resumed sharpening his dagger, and said, "Why is it that you call me 'William', when no one else does, other than my father? From the start, it has been rare that you have called me 'Will', like everyone else."

Jack stopped what he was doing and looked at William, his face screwed up and his tongue firmly in its correct place, by now. "Wot kind of a question is _that_?"

"A silly one...never mind... I just wondered," the whetstone resumed rhythmically stroking the blade of the dagger, smoothly and steadily.

Jack blinked for a moment, and replied, "I call you that because it is your father's name. I would always call him 'William', but now I call _you _'William'... it's a good strong name..."

William smiled a bit, remembering his companion saying that it was a good strong name upon the day that William broke Jack out of jail, and their now lifelong adventures began. Jack seemed content that this was a sufficient answer, and began to hum to himself.

"That's _not_ a good enough answer, Jack... " William chuckled, glancing at his friend's instantaneous frown at this comment. The captain sighed in exasperation, and finally stopped whittling for a moment. William finally put down the whetstone, and resumed polishing the handle of the dagger, smiling inwardly at tweaking his friend's patience a bit... turnabout was certainly fair play these days, as far as tweaking patience was concerned.

"Alright, William... here is the truth," Jack finally said, sighing a bit, "... I give nicknames to many people, savvy? Ye know tha' I started t' call Elizabeth 'Izzy' because it always annoyed her, but now she likes it..."

"Remember, Jack, that you are the only one who can call her that, though..."

"Aye," Jack smiled a bit, then turned a bit serious, again, "... for a long time, William, I only called you things like 'whelp', or 'lad', even 'boy' only when I was perturbed at ye..." Jack's brown eyes got a faraway look, as he thought back over the events of the last two years. "... but I truly began t' call ye 'William' all o' th' time whilst I was in th' Locker..."

William turned to his friend, with veiled concern in his eyes... "In the Locker?" Jack rarely discussed the Locker, but upon this evening his control over his mental flickering was aided by the concentration of turning a simple piece of wood into a thing of beauty...

Jack continued softly, as if to himself, "... I started callin' ye 'William' for good, on th' Other Side... no more 'boy'... an' I started callin' Elizabeth 'Izzy' all o' th' time, then, too... it was comforting... I was dead for several months, wasn't I? Gave me time t' think about a lot o' things, whenever all o' those other Jack Sparrows weren't botherin' me..." he muttered.

Silence fell for a moment, and William said nothing, as Jack's mouth opened and closed several times, and he finally said, "... There were a few times when I thought that I saw ye there wif me, t' keep me company... I suppose that I hoped that th' hallucinations o' th' two o' ye bein' me friends wouldn't melt away like th' mirages that they were, if I treated ye like me friends, wif respect... but ye always faded away into th' heat... I suppose that one could call it wishful hallucinating ..." the small wood chips began to fall around them like so many fragrant grains of Locker sand.

"... but you acted annoyed when we found you, Jack..."

"... I didn't think ye were real... if that isn't annoyin', I don't know wot is... _you_ try living wif hallucinations followin' ye around all o' th' time..." Jack frowned, slightly.

William watched Jack's deft hands as they kept coaxing a form out of the shapeless chunk of wood. William watched Jack's face as it studied the object in his hands... dark, deep mysterious kohl-lined eyes that had seen far too much loneliness in his 30-some years.

Laying his dagger upon the top of the table, among the tiny wood chips, William leaned forward to catch Jack's gaze, and replied, "... it was the hallucinations that faded away, Jack... 'William' and 'Izzy' are still here... count on it, mate... we will always try to help you make the Locker fade away, just like the mirages did..."

Jack looked up at his friend, and smiled slightly. Finally placing the small carved object upon the tabletop, he reached for the cloth that William had used to polish the handle of his dagger and ran it over the lid to a tiny, sandalwood trinket box.

William stared at it in amazement, as the lid of the box had the names "William" and "Izzy" carved into it in the most beautiful script that William had ever seen. It had been carved in a matter of only about an hour or so, and as always, was made as a gift... Jack never kept any of his carvings for himself. "Elizabeth' wouldn't fit on th' lid, savvy?" the captain shrugged, goodnaturedly.

As he picked up some of the tiny wood chips with a tapered fingertip, Jack crushed them and inhaled their fragrance. He finally flicked them into the autumnal breeze, and finished what he was struggling so hard to explain to his friend... his first mate... a man who knew way more about him than anyone else on earth. Finally lifting his braided head up to look up and down the deck to see if anyone was listening, Jack leaned forward and looked William directly in the eye.

"To conclude th' answer t' your question, mate, I call ye 'William' because tha's wot I _want_ t' call ye... it is out of respect, mate... ye didn't look like much when I first met ye, but looks are always decieving..." the captain said, simply. "... 'William' is a good, strong name that fits a good, strong man..."

William nodded in understanding... it was rare that Jack would completely drop the mask that he hid behind, and he usually only did so in his present company. William always knew that it was a privilege when Jack opened up his heart with truth.

William's mind flickered back to one encounter on the deck of the Pearl at World's End... an encounter in which a pirate captain with gleaming, mad eyes watched a young man from the bowsprit...a young man who had quickly freed himself from the Pearl's brig because of half pin barrel hinges... a young man with conflicting emotions; the captain knowing that the young man's heart was truly not in his actions to betray his friends to Cutler Beckett, no matter how hard he had tried to make himself believe it... an encounter in which the captain's and the young man's friendship had resurfaced like it was escaping from another horrible Locker of misunderstanding.

Their friendship had never really been lost... it had only lost its true course, for a while. From that moment on, they sailed forward into history as strong allies, finally fully trusting each other completely. They had earned each other's hard won respect out of finally beingopen and honest with each other... and their friendship had grown stronger with each day that had passed, since.

"Besides," the captain winked, popping the cork on a bottle of rum and pouring two mugs, sliding the tiny piece of sandalwood art toward his first mate with a cheeky smirk, and bringing William back to the present, "Names bein' wot they are... 'William' an' 'Izzy' look quite nice carved on a trinket box...I hope that ye have some trinkets, mate."

William chuckled, and they both propped up their feet higher up onto the railing and contentedly watched the moon slip through some wispy clouds...

Jack's husky voice added, from the darkness,"... if ye don't have any trinkets, whelp, come see me..." His first mate laughed a little... he would still always be a "whelp" to Jack...

William put the trinket box to his nose, and inhaled the wonderful fragrance... mixed with the freshness of the sea air, the tang of the wood smoke from the coast, and for the honest feelings that were just imparted to him by his best friend, it made for a very fine evening, indeed. Never, he thought, had he expected to have a such a feeling of satisfaction for being called by his Christian name of William... a good, strong name for a good, strong man.

William grinned at his odd companion, who was taking a long drink from his mug, after which he belched a bit... Respect, William thought, goes both ways, when friends are both good, strong men. They were no longer the complete opposites that William had percieved them to be, at first... not at all. With a contented sigh, he, too, crushed the tiny sandalwood chips in his fingertips, and enjoyed the night sky.

Jack only momentarily broke the silence, "...Sandalwood smells nice, does it not? Izzy will like it..." And he belched a little again, as he and his first mate winked at each other, tapping their mugs together, toasting all of the truths that they now shared...

۞


	47. The Most Legendary

_**Disclaimer: **__No matter how hard I try to steal them, they still have the Disney trademark stamped on them!_

_**Author's note and dedication: **__I just finished a long story called "The Other Side of the Island", another story in the series in which Jack and Will are cousins... as in all of my fictions, Will has won a pardon from the Flying Dutchman and is reunited with Elizabeth as Jack's crew; the ship's articles were rewritten by Calypso, with Jack's help. Will is bound to return to the Dutchman, when needed, to advise her captain, James Norrington, for the ten years that he was originally to be the captain, but is otherwise free to live his mortal life._

_... this one shot is an offshoot of "The Other Side of the Island" story... it is really a "deleted scene". Jack, Will, Elizabeth and Jack's true lady love, Janie O'Madden, have rescued two kidnapped gypsy children while visiting in Jack's homeland of Ireland. Jack, in my fictions, is half gypsy, and was sold into slavery as a child because of his race; thus, his obsession with freedom. In the meantime, a one shot about Jack and a newfound friend!_

_I dedicate this one shot to "Jennifer Lynn Weston", who made some wonderful suggestions for the long story... enjoy, mate! Pirate Cat_

۞

The celebration feast at the camp was a sumptuous one, indeed! The caravans were festooned with beautiful decorative streamers, and the tables were set with huge platters of food, much more than any of them would ever be able to consume... the campfires had been roasting wild boar and goose, and there had been savory platters of fried potatoes with bacon, and a gypsy dish that was very dear to one of the honoured guest's heart - boiled cabbage stuffed with rice, chopped lamb, and seasoned with exotic herbs and garlic...

Beautiful young Maggie Sparrow had been a wonderful cook, and her son, Captain Jack Sparrow, let his memory wander back over thirty years with the aromas of his own gypsy heritage and the dishes that his long dead mother would prepare... the Kerrigan clan was showing their gratitude to the most famous gypsy in Ireland by honouring him and William Turner the Second, Elizabeth Turner and Janie O'Madden with many kind words and many foods that had been the result of a successful hunt since the rescue of Allan and Betsy Kerrigan from the clutches of Portuguese slavers...

Jack simply had to get up from his place at the long wooden table and stretch, or he might embarrass himself by falling asleep... his thin frame was sure to fill out with such eating, he hoped... William delighted in pointing out the captain's slight build, and any weight added would be to his credit, he thought... He stretched a little, then patted his middle with both of his slender hands, as he leaned back from his hips and looked at all that was going on around him...

...William was now teaching some of the men in the tribe the art of throwing a sword, in order not to simply impress, but to defend one's self... every throw of William's sword was straight, swift and deadly, sticking perfectly into any target that he chose... he could produce the same lethal result with a hatchet or a dagger. It was, sadly, an art that was needed to be taught, as Jack had learned, first hand, just how cruel the world could be to his own race. His dark eyes watched his young first mate, as the crowd had gathered around him... gypsies had an uncanny way of knowing a lot about the world around them, and William had the utmost respect, as the former captain of the Flying Dutchman ... the Kerrigan clan had even addressed him as "Captain Will"... Jack was proud as he watched the young man... he deserved this respect, and as a result, William felt a great deal of kinship to these people who had embraced him as Jack's own half cousin.

As he walked about the encampment, the captain's face melted into a smile and his heart beat a little bit faster as he watched Elizabeth and his Janie... ahhh, his Janie... his oldest friend. He had finally told her how much he loved her... it had been obvious ever since he was three years old, and she was five, that they would be joined at the heart, and they had seen it all, together, him and his Janie, but it had taken every minute of his thirty seven years, and her thirty nine, to finally come right out and say, "I love you!" to each other... he observed this strong, auburn haired, blue eyed Irish lassie, regal of bearing and plain of dress, her freckled face laughing, as she and Elizabeth shared a story with the women of the tribe. He felt a warm, huge rush of affection wash over his black pirate heart... he thought that he had nearly lost her on the night of the rescue, but she had shown just how strong she was. His lassie... his Janie... it wasn't the rum going to his head that was making him unsteady on this glorious day, as he was unsteady without the rum... on this day, it was simply the sun, the kinship, the feeling of loving life! Well, and maybe some rum...

He found himself wandering the edge of the encampment, taking in the colours and the sights... his own memories flooding back into his addled mind... he had been brutally taken away from his life as the son of a beautiful gypsy girl and a distant pirate father, but was now making peace with it, at William's and Elizabeth's urging... this trip to Ireland had been a healing process... and now that Jack had professed his feelings to the woman who was the true love of his life, and was building a relationship with his father, Captain Edward Jonathan Teague, he never felt better in his life...

۞

"You are a bonnie lassie, aren't ye? Look at ye! Pretty as a mermaid, ye are!" Jack was delicately petting the soft muzzle of a small horse in the corral at the edge of the camp... she was well muscled and strong, and had carried him safely (albeit, bumpily, as his sore posterior end would attest) through the night forest of County Galway...

The little black mare nickered in a friendly fashion, her intelligent brown eyes watching his every move. The captain ran his hand appreciatively over her neck and back... she was the result of the Kerrigan's horse breeding, in order to develop an animal that would be suitable to their needs... and a beautiful horse she was. Glossy of coat, with a long silky tail and mane. She had a white blaze down her face, and all four legs had white stockings. Like all gypsy horses, she had long feathers of hair on her fetlocks to protect her ankles from briars, and it was a sight to see when the horses ran upon that night of the rescue... like feathery little wings upon their legs.

"It's too bad that I can't take ye wif me aboard me ship, lassie... ye proved your salt t' ol' Jack wif your courage an' fortitude..." Jack said, seriously, as he sneaked a small packet of sugar out of his pocket. The little mare's pink tongue lapped at it greedily, as Jack chuckled at her. Leaning in to her, he whispered, his eyes wide, "... I am greatly appreciative o' th' fact that ye didn't throw me, lass... " he cleared his throat, and whispered even more softly, "... ye see, I'm a bit afraid o' horses... I ... ummm... fall off a great deal, an' none too gracefully... thank ye for helping me keep face in front o' me own kind...it'd be embarrassing for a gypsy to fall off of a horse, no matter how legendary he is as a pirate..."

As the little mare regarded him, her ears pricked forward as if in surprise at his words, the captain stroked her neck, almost sadly. Jack had never traveled with his mother's own people, as he had been thrown out into a brutal and unknown world after her death, then he had made his own way out at sea after his father had rescued him from the chains of slavery...he had always regretted that he had not spent time with his own kind. He looked around the festive camp, and as he watched all that was going on around him, he said to the small horse, with a nod, "... I never learned t' ride very well, but you made me look good, savvy?"

He jumped back a bit in alarm as the spirited little horse tossed her head, as if in agreement... but he smiled, again, as she gently nuzzled his hand with her velvety nose. "... ahhh, that's th' lass... wonder if ye have a name?"

His thoughts were interrupted as one of the gypsies called out... they were all watching him, as he had been talking to and petting the horse that had become a member of his crew on that night of the daring rescue... the little mare that had carried him into even more legendary status among his mother's people. The gypsies had all raised their mugs, tankards and bottles to him from the campfire, and were shouting, "Here's to Captain Jack Sparrow! Huzzah to his first mate and the lasses that they love!"

As Jack stood up straight and proud, waving his own bottle, he shouted back, "And here's to me little black lassie, here! Wot's her name, mates? A better horse we'll never find!"

Padraig Kerrigan, the patriarch of the clan, raised his mug higher and shouted, "Here's to a good man an' his horse... 'Black Pearl'!"

Jack's mouth dropped open in astonishment, as he could hear William's laughter bursting through the crowd.

Turning back to the pawing black mare, who was tossing her head, again, the captain purred... "ahhhhh, no wonder!"

... and it was no wonder to the grateful Kerrigan family that the spirited black mare that had been Jack Sparrow's horse for only a few hours upon one fateful night, Black Pearl, would forever bear a long, artful braid in her mane, tied off with red string and two colourful beads... a gift from the most legendary gypsy of them all...

۞


	48. Avast

_**Disclamer: **I would steal them for me own, but for the Mouse and his scurvy crew..._

_**Dedication: **I dedicate this one shot to latebloomer04. Thanks for the challenge, mate... hope ye likes it. Pirate Cat_

۞

"It's not that I don't want Jack to stay with us, Bill... it's that we barely have enough food for the three of us while you are home. Jack was a good, sweet boy at one time, but he has become so wild looking and wild acting that I worry how he will influence our son..."

Mary Turner's worried, tired voice was quietly arguing with her husband's puzzled one. "... besides, he would be a distraction... you need to spend your time with Will while you are home, and I know you too well... at the first opportunity, you will go galivanting off with Jack to a pub... " her voice grew even quieter.

"... Mary, I can't just turn him out... he's me best friend, even if I am that much older than he is. I know that he became a man very, very young, but at seventeen, he is still a boy! He is barely taller than you, even now! He is brave lad, but on his own, the skinny little whelp would likely get 'imself killed!" Bootstrap Bill Turner's voice was cajoling, trying to convince his wife to let his young friend stay on for a few days whilst he and Jack were between ships...

Mary fell silent, then said, "... so you can't turn him out. Just like you can't resist taking up pirating with the wild Irish hooligan that he is... take food from your own little boy's mouth because you can't stand up to Jack Sparrow? Please, Bill, it's not that I don't like Jack, but..."

Bill said nothing. Finally, he relented, and sighed, "... I will talk to Jack... " but Mary knew that Bill would do this only grudgingly.

Mary knew that things had changed between her and her husband... if it were not for small Will, Bill would leave with Jack and never come back to her... their love was beginning to grow cold.

And little known to either of them was that the subject of the conversation was standing upon the other side of the door... trying not to let the truth of the conversation that was not meant for his ears break his heart. He would not move his seabag from it's spot next to the small cottage's doorway... and would leave before nightfall, so that he would not stay where he was clearly not wanted...

۞

_Three year old Will Turner peered around the outside corner of the house at the very strange looking young man that was sitting glumly upon the front step of the house that Will shared with his mother, and with his father when he was home... the shy child did not make a sound, as he watched the thin teenager whittle aimlessly on a piece of wood with a small knife... tiny shavings of wood were piling up on the toes of the young man's leather sea boots... sea boots that made their owner's legs look no bigger around than the twigs that he was whittling._

_Will studied this young man... he had long, wild black hair, streaked with brown in places where the sun had bleached it out at sea, and said wild black hair was tied back with a long, bright red bandanna... the young man's skin was dark and bronze coloured, his sad eyes were chocolate brown and had long black lashes, almost like those of a girl. The only thing that might set his face apart from being that of a high cheekboned woman was the wispy black mustache and the rather pathetic start of a beard on the young man's chin... he, indeed, had a wild look about him... there were beads dangling over his forehead, and even sprinkled in his hair, here and there. Will had never seen anything like him... he wondered if he was a sailor, or a gypsy... he certainly looked like both!_

_Will became more brave, and he crept around the corner of the house, and quietly sat down next to the young man, not uttering a sound. The young man had seen him, but had ignored him... rather hoping that the child would go away and leave him alone. Finally realizing that the boy seemed rooted into place, the young man turned his head in a rather loose way and stared back at the little boy, whose large, soft brown eyes could not remove themselves from him._

_"'Ello." was the flat greeting, as Will simply stared. Will finally put a few words of his own together, "Wha's you name?" he lisped. The young man sighed, and finally put his small knife away in his vest pocket. "Jack Sparrow. Wot's yours, mate?"_

_"Will... Will Tuhner..." the little one scooted up next to the stranger, who seemed to smile down at this beautiful child... curly brown hair was blowing in the sea breeze as it wafted along the cobblestone street in front of the small house._

_"Ah. That would be Will Turner..." Jack enunciated the name more clearly, "...short for William... good strong name... named for your father, I imagine..."_

_The child regarded this skinny young man, who rather reminded him of a scarecrow, with his long hair. He finally spoke again, "... will you play wif me? My papa is talking to my mama wight now, an' I have no one to play wif..."_

_Jack began to chuckle at the child's stilted English... it was much like his own, he thought... Bill's son wanted him to play with him, and Bill's wife wanted him to leave.. funny ol' world, he pondered... Jack smiled at the boy and said, "... I don't know any games, mate... "_

_"Tell me stowies?"_

_"Well, I don't know... I..." Jack stammered, as the boy's warm eyes pleaded with him... it was obvious that the child was wanting and needing attention, and perhaps it would stave off the hunger that was gnawing at Jack's aching stomach... he had hoped that Mary would offer him at least some bread before he struck out on his own... just the thought of leaving made his heart take a sickening turn in his chest... he had hoped to have a place to stay, with Bill's family._

_He had become very attached to Bootstrap Bill Turner over the years, much to Mary Turner's growing displeasure. The teenager had been on his own for many years, and only had one other friend that he knew that he loved and trusted more...but she was back home in Ireland... Bill was Jack's best friend on the ocean, and they had been through thick and thin, together. Bill had taken Jack in like a brother, and Jack looked up to him like as if they had been blood kin. But since baby Will had been born, Bill had divided his attention, and Jack felt the tiniest pang of jealousy toward the boy... unfounded, he knew, as the wee one was not to blame... Jack knew that the only one that he could blame was himself for ever thinking that the Turners would consider him family._

_Jack looked down at the child, who had now laid his small hand on Jack's bony knee. "Well, little whelp, I can tell ye about bein' a sailor, how's that sound?" Will smiled up at him, his eyes glowing._

_An hour went on, as the lanky teenager pulled the little one into his lap, and told tales of the sea, his hands waving about, and his husky voice rising and falling like ocean waves, as he sang the only nice songs that he knew to the enthralled child. They got up from the steps and Jack got them each a long stick, and challenged the tiny child to a "swordfight"... they tapped their sticks together, jumping about, giggling and laughing at each other, gently poking each other in the arm or leg, finally determining that they were both ticklish._

_The young sailor swept the child from his feet by taking his hands and swinging him around in a circle, as the child crowed with delight, his feet flying in the air. Jack remembered his mother making him feel as if he could fly, calling him the king of the gypsies, and singing in Irish Gaelic, as she swung him around. Will risked becoming sick and Jack finally put him down... the child was dizzy and promptly fell onto his rear in the grass, holding his head in his hands and blinking hard._

_They made tiny little boats out of pieces of tree bark, with twigs as masts, and a leaf as a sail... Jack held the child up in his arms so that they could puff out their cheeks, and blow their tiny armada across the surface of the water in the rain barrel, at the rear of the house._

_"Look, Will!" Jack's dark eyes grew as round as moons, as a small waterbug skittered across the surface of the water... Will's brown eyes grew huge. Jack growled, "A sea monster! The Kraken! AVAST!" _

_He poked at it with a slender finger, and the bug disappeared under the water, as Will giggled, "Got him!" Swiveling his curly head around to look at his taller playmate, Will frowned, and asked, "What mean 'avast', Jack?"_

_"Oi!" the teenager put the child down, and scratched his whiskered chin. "I forget... ye don't know sailor lingo... it means, 'STOP'!" he shouted, as he took up his stick and challenged tiny Will to another duel._

_"AVAST!" the boy shouted, as they tested each other's 'swordsmanship' and each other's imaginations... and the sun began to sink in upon the horizen to the west of the docks beyond the cobblestone street..._

۞

It was probably about 2 o'clock in the morning, Jack thought... he had been walking for hours, by now. His shoulders were cramping under the weight of his small sea bag, and his dusty boots were beginning to trudge slower and slower along the dirt road. Looking around, he saw a small barn off to the right of the road, and decided that it might be good to bed down for a few hours...

Pulling his tired body up into the loft, the young man pulled some clean hay up around himself for some warmth, and laid his dark head down upon his bag as a pillow. Laying on his side, he put his hands under his cheek and sadly thought back over the day...

_He had played with Will all afternoon, until Mary and Bill came looking for their son... and they were gone from view. Panic stricken, the Turners went up and down the cobblestone street, calling for Will, yelling for Jack, looking up and down, behind the hedges and under porches. It wasn't until Jack came meandering back up from the docks, with Will on his thin shoulders, that the Turners finally breathed a sigh of relief. Jack had taken Will down to the docks only a block away, to point out the ships to the curious, happy boy. The little one had even learned to say words like "galleon", "anchor", "mizzenmast" and "mainsail". Mary was not impressed in the least... in fact, she was furious._

_Jack was firmly and loudly admonished in front of the curious neighbors for taking the child without permission, and Bill had to back up his wife in saying that Jack should have asked permission. Jack stood there in silence, as he finally put Will down... Mary pulled the dismayed boy into her protective arms, and went into the house without saying another word..._

_Bill did not stop the young man as he gathered up his sea bag... his hurt feelings showing in his dark eyes. Bill finally stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder, but only for a moment... he agreed to meet Jack in Dublin, Ireland in a fortnight, and they would sign on to another ship._

_"I'm sorry, lad..." he had said, clumsily "... I'm sorry... it's just that I have a family, and..."_

_"... and I don't have one..." was Jack Sparrow's dull reply. "No worries, Bill... I understand..." _

_And he swung his sea bag over his shoulder, straightened up, and began to proudly make his way westward... toward the Irish Sea._

_As Jack laid in the hayloft in the middle of the night, he bit his lip to remember a small little boy running out of the cottage's doorway, and down the steps, "AVAST!" he cried out. "Stop!"_

_Three year old Will was running toward his new friend, with a small object in his hand. As Jack had turned around, the child turned his flushed face upward and said, "... dis is for you...'mate'."_

In the darkness of the barn, seventeen year old Jack Sparrow curled his hand around a tiny boat made of a piece of bark, with a twig mast and a leaf sail. "... wif any luck, little Will Turner, ye'll never see ol' Jack again... an' you'll forget about me... we'd all be better off..." he whispered... and he buried his face into the crook of his elbow, and tried not to cry...

۞


	49. Desiderata

۞

_**Disclaimer: **__I steals 'em an' hides 'em in me rum cellar... Don't tell Disney._

_**Author's note: **__Everyone knows that Will is released from his curse, with certain conditions, in Pirate Cat's universe... in my fics, he and Elizabeth sail as part of Jack's crew. This fic is set during one of my long fics, "Thicker Than Water", if it sounds familiar to some readers. _

_It was inspired by an interesting bit about Jack and this poem in "The Brethren Court" feature on the new "Pirates of the Caribbean, At World's End"deluxe dvd set._

_BTW - it has been mentioned that the poem was written in 1927 - as an old hippie that has loved this poem for nearly 40 years, I can say that, like with everything, I researched it. Most of the poem is from the ancient world, but was added to and copyrighted in 1927 by Max Ehrmann. Enjoy! Pirate Cat_

۞

The captain of the mighty Black Pearl was badly injured, to be certain... the mizzenmast had taken him down, as it had snapped like a wooden toothpick in the gale that had overtaken the ship. He had saved the lives of William, Elizabeth and Mr. Gibbs as he had knocked them out of the way of the falling mast, only by throwing his own scrawny body, full force, against them, but Jack had taken the full blow of the falling debris, himself. As the ship rocked in the gale, rain pelting down upon the panicked Turners, they scrambled to find their captain underneath the collapsed sails... Elizabeth had found him by the trail of blood that was washing along the deckboards from under the piles of canvas and wood... William had hefted the smaller captain into his arms, and they had finally been able to negotiate the storm tossed stairs down to Jack's cabin, to attempt to save his life...

As William held his captain up in a chair, holding Jack's bloodied head hard back against his shoulder so his wound could be administered to, Elizabeth's trembling fingers were guided by Mr. Gibbs' calm instruction. The needle and catgut stitched together the terrible gash that had opened up on the captain's battered head... blood was everywhere, and Jack's face had been smacked against the hardwood deck so hard that they feared there would be broken bones in the right side of his face... they could do nothing about that except hope for the best...

As the very floorboards seemed to fall out from under them and the lantern light swayed above them, an extensive bandage was wound around the unconscious captain's stitched up head, and they tiredly began to strip his bloody, bloody clothing from him...

Elizabeth had undone the extensive black braids, and was doing her best to rinse the blood out of the captain's thick, waist long mane of hair, while Jack's articles of clothing were falling, one item at a time, into a wobbling bucket of water. Gibbs hurriedly pulled the captain's boots off; the captain was starting to go into shock... as William was worriedly pulling the linen shirt over Jack's bandaged head, carefully... what met his eyes stunned him.

"Will... what is it?" Elizabeth was looking at the startled expression in her husband's eyes, as he beheld Jack's scarred back... it was not the scars that startled him... he knew that a pirate with such a reputation as Captain Jack Sparrow would have been flogged at least once, and deep scars were, indeed, across his shoulders, ruining a small tattoo of what seemed to be a harp... but the other tattoo that presented itself was indeed, unexpected...

William ran a wet towel across Jack's dark back, and hesitated for only a moment... he shook his head at his wife, worry and fright for his badly injured best friend overtaking his surprise, as Jack's breeches were finally stripped, his nakedness swaddled quickly in warm blankets, and placed gently into his bunk by his first mate and his best friend. His best friend's wife removed the literal buckets of blood out onto the main deck...

۞

Mr. Gibbs was sitting with the young couple as the unconscious captain laid, still and quiet, against the nest of pillows and blankets... Jack was very slender and almost delicate of build, and looked extremely small and frail in the half light... his handsome face was pale, but they had at least prevented him from going into shock. Several hours had passed, and the trio that was loyally sitting with this man who had saved them all, once again, upon this night, were finally resting, themselves. Gibbs had brought steaming mugs of coffee from the galley... William had taken a long swallow from his mug, as he resumed bathing Jack's neck and face with a damp cloth to relieve the fever that was now setting in. The captain was as still as death...

"Will..." Elizabeth began, as she watched her handsome pirate husband's eyes become lost in thought as he finally pulled the blanket up and over the captain's bare chest... "What did you see that surprised you so, on Jack's back?"

Gibbs looked up and raised an eyebrow, and William sighed... "I know that Jack has many secrets, but I never expected to see an entire poem tattooed across his back and the backs of his arms... not in a million years." Even in his time as captain of the Flying Dutchman, William had not seen everything, and he could always rely on his friend to continue to surprise him...

"A poem???" Elizabeth's hazel eyes widened in equal surprise... "Jack?" William nodded, as his eyes met Gibbs. "It covers his entire back, along with designs that look like ornate knots and circles... one is a sea turtle..."

"It's a poem is called 'Desiderata'," Gibbs spoke up. "The knots and circles are Celtic designs... they are Irish in origin, an' Jack's homeland is Ireland," the young couple stared at him in surprise, then remembered that Jack's stilted, fractured English carried the barest whisper of an Irish brogue.

"'Desiderata' is a poem that Jack tried very hard to live by, at one time ..." Gibbs continued, sadly, "... Lord knows that he has had a low opinion of himself at some points in his life. I don't know th' significance of it, but th' cap'n has quoted it, now an' then, in th' distant past..." the grizzled first mate cleared his throat, and said, softly, "... I memorized it after we parted ways the first time... he was still hunting for th' Pearl after th' mutiny... an' many of its verses kept Jack goin' at th' time... "

As the young couple waited, Gibbs finally began...

"_Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence._

_As far as possible and without surrender, be on good terms with all persons._

_Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant,  
they, too, have their story._

_Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are the vexations to the spirit. _

_If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. _

_Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. _

_Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. _

_Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. _

_But let not this blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere, life is full of heroism._

_Be yourself. _

_Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass. _

_Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. _

_Nurture strength of the spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. _

_But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness_

_Beyond some discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here._

_And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. _

_Therefore, be at peace with God, whatever you conceive him to be. _

_And whatever your labours and aspirations in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. _

_With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams; it is still a beautiful world. _

_Be cheerful._

_Strive to be happy."_

Elizabeth had tears in her eyes, as William silently looked at the dark, still face of the sick man lying in the bunk, his eyes devoid of kohl and closed heavily, and his breathing slow.

Gibbs said, quietly, "...amazing tha' one as slender an' slight as Jack could have all o' that on 'is back... he had that tattooed _before_ he was branded as a pirate... _before_ so many words of it came untrue for 'im... _before_ he went to the Locker, an' his addled mind has been made t' forget every word of it... he doesn't remember it's there..."

William bathed the silent, feverish captain with cool water, as Elizabeth swallowed hard. Taking up Jack's unusually still hand in her own, she squeezed it, as she murmered, "..._... be cheerful...Strive to be happy ..._ he's always been an example of those words..._"_

As Elizabeth dashed away tears, William kept bathing Jack's face, and he said, softly, "..._nurture strength of the spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune_... he still practices that... _everywhere, life is full of heroism... _that," William said, "... goes without saying..." and silence fell over the captain's cabin.

And as the night wore on and the stormy weather passed, and as they cared for their injured captain, their best friend, they pondered about just how lucky they were to have this man in their lives...Jack Sparrow was an example of unexpected heroism to those that he cared about. More than anything, whether the poem tattooed upon his back had become irrelevent in the life of a man who had been branded a pirate unjustly, and pushed into a world that he did not want, he was the shining example of the simplest of the poem's lines...

_"...Be yourself..." _

۞


	50. Ahhh, the Pleasure!

_**Disclaimer: **The characters aren't mine, but that doesn't stop me..._

_**Author's note: **As if you all don't know, by now, Will and Elizabeth sail with Jack in Pirate Cat's Universe... _

۞

Now and then, there were cold nights in the Caribbean... even as the trade winds blew warm most times, there was a night or two during the winter months that brought a chill to the captain's cabin that very few things could warm completely... sometimes he felt as if he would never lose the chills that would over come him...

Tonight was decidedly _not_ one of those nights. As the cold wind blew outside, rattling the glass in the tall windows, Captain Jack Sparrow was basking in the warmth of a soft touch... the candles were glowing, making dancing shadows against the rich walls of this small sanctuary aboard the mighty Black Pearl, and he was laying on his bunk, his eyes half closed in pleasure...

She had known how to please him since they were children ... his auburn haired lassie... his oldest friend, playmate, and deepest confidente... the only one who knew exactly how to shelter him against the coldness of the world... he had sailed the Seven Seas several times in his lifetime, taking in all of life's pleasures and pains, experiencing its most basic of exotic decadence, as well as all of the most excrutiating of pain, but tonight, it was his lassie's talents that were providing him with all of the love and comfort that he would ever need.

He loved her, oh yes, he did... with all of his black pirate heart. She was his, and he was hers... there was no one like her, for all that she knew about him, and he had returned to her with gifts from all around the world, year after year, for solace and love, for good food and for good fun. She was very much a pirate at heart, not one to shy away from adversity, and not one to mince words when they were needed. Ahhhh, his girl...

But tonight, as the chill wind filled the black sails above all of their heads, he was partaking in a guilty pleasure that only she could give to one certain part of his body... he was being caressed, softly. He even doubted that Elizabeth Turner, the ship's quartemaster second mate, could please her husband, William, in the very same way, in their snug cabin across the main deck from the captain's... no, he thought, no one could please like _his _lassie...

"Cap'n..." a soft knock came at the door, as Gibb's voice shook Jack from his dreamy reverie, "... your turn t' relieve Will from th' helm, sir..."

Sighing deeply, Jack said, "Alright... I'm on me way..." Sitting up unwillingly in his bunk, he stretched, and took a pull from a bottle of rum, still savouring the tingling sensation that his lassie had lavished upon him... smiling sensually, he pulled on his boots... but not before he looked at his _feet_ ...

For his lassie was far away, in Ireland. But she had tucked a surprise in the parcel of wild plum jam and other small items that she had sent along with him at his last departure... a surprise that she had made just for him...

Aye... she knew how to warm him in so many ways... and he smiled down at the thick, soft, warm, handknitted lamb's wool stockings that were warming his wiggling toes... the source of his fuzzy happiness upon this cold night. He chuckled to himself that he could find such warmth in something so simple...

No one else on the Pearl had brand new stockings from _their_ lass, tonight, he was certain... no indeed, he said to himself, as he put on his hat, and strutted upward to the quarterdeck, with handmade love adorning his chilled feet...

Ahhhh, he sighed... the pleasure!

۞


	51. In a Longboat, Such as This

_**Disclaimer:** I looked in my stocking, and under the tree... I got lots of cool Pirates stuff, but they STILL really belong to Disney._

_**Author's note: **As all of my regular readers know, Will is released from his curse early, with conditions, and he and Elizabeth are part of Jack's crew, in Pirate Cat's Universe. This one shot refers to the story that accomplishes this wonderful feat, "Calypso's Hand". I love my universe! Pirate Cat_

۞

Surprisingly, Elizabeth Swann Turner rarely turned a nose up at the everyday tasks that it took to run a pirate ship at sea... she had taken to the pirate life upon the Black Pearl with her husband with open arms, and the only thing that she would decline doing was actually swabbing the decks. There were other crewmembers that would take on that tedious, backbreaking task, as Elizabeth was not averse to doing other things that the rest of the crew abhored. Varnishing was one of those tasks.

It was something that had no end, much like the swabbing of the deck, but it took her to all parts of the massive galleon, and she was always satisfied with the glossy smooth finish that it afforded, in spite of it being a job that needed redoing after only a few weeks of salt air, wind and sun. It was a smelly job, but it was satisfying... the dark walnut of the Black Pearl seemed to welcome Elizabeth's steady hand, and she would respect Captain Jack Sparrow's wishes that his beloved ship be kept in as pristine of condition as was possible. Granted, many crewmember thought that he was obsessive about it, but she was one of three aboard the ship that truly understood and accepted the odd man and his deep eccentricity, the others being Elizabeth's husband, first mate William Turner the Second, and Jack's loyal quartermaster, Joshamee Gibbs.

Upon this day, Elizabeth had lithely clambered down into one of the longboats, and was busily putting her paintbrush and bucket to good use after she had washed the surfaces down well with a scrub brush and another bucket that was full of water. She was completely undaunted by the fact that the longboat was lashed to the side of the ship, hanging securely by its davits. The sea was rushing underneath her, loudly, as the ship smoothly cut its way through the clear, blue waters... they had just outrun the escort of yet another ship that they had raided and sent to watery oblivion, and Jack Sparrow and Will were quite smug with the swag that was now hidden in the hold of the dark vessel.

As she sat upon one of the longboat's benches, Elizabeth became lost in thought, as she finally put down her brushes... such an unassuming craft such as this was essential to a sailing ship, and suddenly, she frowned. So unassuming... a longboat, such as this... as her memories came flooding back, Elizabeth sat still, as the water churned beneath her...

..._ it was dark that night, as she rowed herself toward Isla De Muerta, to the treasure cave where Will's life seemingly hung in the balance, uttering "Bloody pirates!" and taking matters into her own hands. They had borne witness to the artistry that was Jack Sparrow weaving his spell, and to the pirate blood awakening in her young blacksmith, as he read the pirate captain's mind... they pulled Hector Barbossa under Jack Sparrow's spell... but it was all for naught for Jack, as they rowed sadly back to the Dauntless..."I'm sorry, Jack", she had uttered rather lamely. His sad reply was, "... they done wot's right by them... can't expect more'n that..." _

_Jack had gambled and lost. Elizabeth and Will were rescued, and the Black Pearl's curse was broken, but his beloved ship was gone... so close, only to slip through his elegant fingers. The young couple unwillingly delivered their suddenly quiet and small looking new friend into the hands of the authorities, and toward the gallows... her own love, her own young pirate had already planned to contact the crew of the Black Pearl, and took matters into his own hands on the day that Jack was to be hung... but she did not know that this was going through Will's newly scheming head, as she watched Jack sit all alone at the bow... of a longboat, such as this..._

_Her thoughts turned to Isla Cruces, and the fighting over the heart of Davy Jones... Jack had knocked Will senseless with an oar to get the whelp out of the way and back to the Pearl with his lass, and as James Norrington had escaped with the chest, Jack had confidently ordered them all to pick up Will, and pile in... and they rowed back to the dark ship with what seemed to be a useless jar of dirt. The captain was already showing signs of a cracking mental state, when he was certain that they had something of value to negotiate with... "I've got a jar of dirt, and guess wot's inside it..." but Norrington had the heart... They had gone back to the ship, to what they thought was safety... in a longboat, such as this..._

_The Kraken attacked... and Elizabeth cringed when she remembered seeing Jack rowing back to Isla Cruces as the monster was taking on the pirate ship that seemingly was refusing to give up... Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut, as she recalled uttering the contemptuous words, "You coward!" Little did she know that Jack's judgment was not as astute as it had been, before... he was changed, but not by cowardice... he had the unreasonable and desperate thought that he could recover the heart... but loyalty to his crew, and his love for his ship made him turn back... in a longboat, such as this..._

_The Pearl was gone... Jack was dead, at her hand, like as if she had curled the Kraken's cold tentacles around him, herself... she had given him no choice with one click of the shackles... her mind was numb for her rash, terrible act to save herself and Will at the cost of Jack's life... her soul felt like a black hole, as Elizabeth finally realized what she had done... she had killed a man... their friend... and sorely wounded Will, the man that she loved, because he misunderstood her devious, childish method... she could no longer feel superior to Jack, or any other buccanneer, because of one word that thundered inside of her head... Jack's last word to her..."Pirate..." She had killed a man that was their friend, and who had come back to face the Beastie... now they were rowing up the river to Tia's shack, and to shelter ... all of the swamp people already knew, and were staring at them... and she felt that she was about to die, inside... she huddled to herself, and they all grieved, in a longboat, such as this..._

_They had planned and schemed... it was Will, and not Barbossa, who lead what remained of Jack's crew to commandeer a small ship that was seaworthy enough to take them to Singapore to obtain the charts to find Jack in the world of the dead, at Tia's instruction... "Leave it to me... I learned to commandeer a ship from the best," was Will's only terse comment, as he had demanded to be the one to lead. They had rowed all the way to a port on the far side of the island, and took the small ship by night... Elizabeth would never forget Will's cold determination... and seeing the pirate blood boil to the surface of his personality, as he tried to convince himself that he only wanted the Pearl, and not its captain... this was not true, but one would not know it as they rowed all night in silence... in a longboat, such as this..._

_They found Jack in the Locker... daft and mad with the heat, the loneliness, the utter fact that his body was not living and his mind was hammered into tiny bits... he had come ashore from the mighty Black Pearl with fire in his eyes, as he growled at Gibbs about the lack of discipline aboard his vessel, only to have his anger dissipate in front of them as he confronted each one of them... his thoughts and words were in scattered puzzles ...Jack had come ashore an angry man, only to row back out to the Pearl as a confused and dazed man, uncertain what was real and what was not, not knowing where he had been, and who were his friends, and who were not... but he had faith that he would find out that his first suspicions about friendship and loyalty would not be so wrong, after all... he had thought about it, and watched Will and Elizabeth watching him... a being who had been a friend, but was now a nonliving spectre soon to be restored to life... he had watched them, with a mad gleam in his eye and with the smallest inkling of a smile... in a longboat, such as this..._

_On the sea of death that Jack still inhabited, Elizabeth saw her beloved father leave her... "I'll give your love to your mother..."... her father left her behind, and went beyond to another world... in a longboat, such as this..._

_Elizabeth finally remembered the calm after the victory in the Battle of the Maelstrom... Joshamee Gibbs waved his hand, and said, "Your chariot awaits, your highness... the oars are inside..." Elizabeth felt tears burn in her eyes, as the captain of the Black Pearl was graciously sending her to her waiting husband upon the island, who was soon to leave with his own ghost ship... what might have been a very sad wedding night was tempered by how much she loved Will, and by the restored faith in their friend... yes, she loved that scamp, Jack, too, when she climbed in and found not only oars, but blankets, two goblets, and a bottle of wine with a note in Jack's ornate handwriting that read, "For the wedding night of Mr. and Mrs. William Turner the Second... enjoy, before Hector Barbossa realizes his bottle of wine is missing. Respectfully, Capt. J. S." Thanks to the Pirate Lord of the Caribbean, the Pirate King felt warmth of love wash over her as she rowed to the Captain of the Flying Dutchman... her husband... in a longboat, such as this..._

_Months later, she had been told to pack her seabag, and wait with the Dead Man's Chest... Will was miraculously being released from the Dutchman, but with conditions... her nerves were frayed, and she had panicked when it was revealed that Calypso had chosen Jack to be the one to bear the chest out to the Pearl, where Will waited with his father to have his heart restored... he was dying, and Jack had to hurry... she had panicked, and had tried to take the chest with his heart, her promise, her very life itself, to him... but it was Jack's appointed duty... she had resisted, and had swung the chest at the pirate captain in desperation, nearly knocking him into the waves, and knocking out two teeth, but the crew had gotten the chest away from her, and he had rowed out to save his best friend's life and reunite those who had fought so hard to be together... he had been injured and was bleeding, but he steadfastly put his own heart and soul into the oars, all alone, and he had made it in time...in a longboat, such as this...  
_

Wiping her eyes, Elizabeth shook herself from her thoughts... she looked around at the startlingly blue sky and the whitecapped waves, as they rushed by her and underneath her... she reached over and touched the hull of the mighty Black Pearl with her hand, and then ran that same hand over the wooden bench that she was sitting upon... she took a deep breath, and closed her eyes for only a moment.

Many new memories had been made... she smiled, as she thought of new friends, and the pirate life that she, Will and Jack were all born to lead aboard the ship that they crewed... her smile turned into a grin as thought of how she and Will would watch Jack reveling in flamboyant, cheeky glory, tweaking the sensibilities of the Royal Navy, the aristocracy, the affluent, and anyone else that he mischieviously cared to stick his tongue out at by plundering their holds, setting their indignant crews adrift, and sinking their ships ... taking what they could, and giving nothing back... Elizabeth and Will had found out that there was a certain new nobility and honour in their lives, by living them to the fullest under their captain's command... a man who had helped to keep them together, and upon whose ship they lived in snug comfort.

As she silently and lovingly varnished the hull of the small craft that surrounded her, she was quietly thankful, that a daft, skinny pirate captain and a naive, idealistic young blacksmith had joined forces to rescue her from evil in what seemed an eternity ago... and that a pirate captain simply wanted his ship back... for it was to change all of their lives for the better...

They had hidden under an overturned hull, then had stealthily crept into the waters of history... "This is either madness, or genius..."... in a longboat... such as this...

۞


	52. The Pirate King of Rum

_**Disclaimer: **The characters are mine only in my greedy dreams..._

_**Author's Note: **You all know about Will in my universe, by now... he and Elizabeth sail with Jack. This one shot refers to Jack's Irish backstory that I have written several fics about... it was inspired by a challenge from gothicpiratevictoria, to whom it is dedicated! Pirate Cat_

۞

"Five... four... three... two... one! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!"

One of the mighty Black Pearl's cannons fired, shaking Mr. Pintel and Mr. Ragetti to the very marrow of their merry bones, and they slammed mugs of rum together in the cannon bay and danced a jig, as they heard dancing feet and pistols firing on the decks above their heads... shouts and cheers of "HUZZAH!" resounded through the night as midnight had been counted down at random... they really had no idea what time it was, other than close to midnight by the position of the stars in the sky, but the captain of the ship had merely declared that it was time to shout and shoot all kinds of weapons, simply to make a great deal of gleeful noise.

All was quieted very quickly, however, when the startled crying of a toddler in the cabin of the first mate and the quartermaster second mate was heard above the din..."Little Will... Little Whelpie!" Captain Jack Sparrow hurried into the Turners' cabin as William and Elizabeth laughed after him, pouring mugs of rum for all... they knew that the noise would awaken the child, and they knew exactly how the captain would react at the tears of the wee one who was his godson... he reappeared upon the main deck with the curly haired image of William in his arms, clucking to him in sweetly gruff tones, and delicately drying the little boy's frightened tears... "Awww, now, now, whelpie! No tears for our littlest pirate, eh? You'll like th' noise once we teach ye how t' shoot a pistol, savvy? We'll start tomorrow! Happy New Year, laddie!"

As the rest of the crew settled into gambling and singing, story telling and more sedate celebrating of the birth of another year, William, Elizabeth and Jack settled into chairs that they pulled up around a barrel, a lantern glowing brightly above their heads as the ship rested quietly in an island cove ... her anchor had been dropped, and the warm Caribbean breezes blew fragrantly from the jungle beyond them... Little Will had stopped crying, and Elizabeth was now rocking him back to sleep, as William and Jack propped thier boots up onto the edge of the port side railing...

"It was a good year, was it not, Jack?" William grinned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as his hair blew over his shoulders... his curly hair and his bandanna tails were fluttering around his tanned, handsome young face. His hand ran across his deeply scarred chest, as his sparkling warm eyes regarded Elizabeth and their son, who was now over a year old, and quite the handful in tandem with the captain.

Jack exuberantly downed another mug of rum, and belched happily, "It was th' best year a pirate could ask for, mate... plenty o' ships t' plunder, plenty o' rum, plenty o'... rum... ooo... I'm in need o' more rum..." The dark captain finally set his tankard down, and picked up one of the many bottles that he and William had brought above from the rum cellar for the occasion... they had even brought forth the rum of higher quality that William had hidden from his captain, much to Jack's chagrin.

"Jack, I think that Will means that we had a good year, not as pirates, but as friends and family..." Elizabeth giggled, as Jack muttered, "... it was a good year fer _rum_, too..." He tilted the bottle back and drank deeply... both of the Turners had acquired a taste for rum, but were still utterly amazed at Jack's ability to drink it like water...

Sighing in exasperation at Jack's single train of thought, she pondered aloud, "It was a good year... we have all been united upon the Black Pearl for over two years now, since Will rejoined us... it has been three years since we rescued you, Jack. We are all in good health, if we can keep an eye on our captain!" She stuck her foot over, and poked him in the side with her toe.

Will chuckled, as Jack swiveled his head around and declared, "I'm in good health! _hiccup_ I haven't hurt meself, have only been hungover a few times, an' I haven't fallen overboard in months, I haven't gotten sick since I got th' bloody bothersome pneumonia last winter..."

Will interjected, "That was while we were in Ireland, visiting Janie over the winter, and you didn't fall overboard, you fell off of the dock and into the cove, on New Year's Day last year... you'd had _too much_ rum..."

Jack's bronzed face became a bit sad, and he hiccuped, again. "We're all in good healf... I mean 'health'..._hiccup_... " His lower lip began to protrude in a pout, as the Turners looked at him in puzzlement. The captain looked all around them, his head becoming looser and looser as he consumed more rum... his voice slurred more thickly, as his eyebrows shot up, and he grinned sloppily, "... I wonder if I could trade in bein' th' Pirate Lord o' th' Caribbean fer ..._hic_..._hiccup_... bein' th' Pirate Lord o' Ireland... I miss me Janie..." he pouted again, and nearly fell off of his chair.

William reached over and gently patted Jack's wavering shoulder, helping him to sit up better, and said, softly, "There is no Pirate Lord of Ireland, Jack... "

The warm breezes blew over the deck, once more, as Jack grew silent... the only sounds were of the lapping of the water against the Pearl's hull, the laughing of the crew as Mr. Gibbs drew in his winnings over a game of dice, and the soft noise of Little Will contentedly sucking his thumb...

Jack hiccuped again, and struggled to keep his head up ... looking out over the beautiful moonlit sea, his expressive eyes became wistful as they gazed eastward toward a homeland of his innocent youth that had become his heart's homeland, once again, thanks to the young couple who had also adopted Eire as theirs.

"Well, mates... _hiccup_... if there ishn't a Pirate Lord o' Ireland, there _oughtta_ be... I coul' be th' Pirate King o' Rum AND th' Pirate Lord o' Ireland!... le's call th' Brethren Court t'gether an'...Oi...no, not good... _hiccup_ ...let's _not_..." and with that, the trinketed head of Captain Jack Sparrow lolled back, and he instantly started to snore...

The Turners shook their heads affectionately at their drunken captain, and William picked up the worn tricorn hat that had flopped to the deck and laid it over Jack's face... he picked up Jack's coat from remaining chair where it had been draped, and covered his friend up to his beaded, braided chin... leaning over to his beautiful wife, William softly kissed her, stroking his son's soft curls, and whispered, "Happy New Year, my love... I have never been happier in my life..." William leaned down, and kissed his boy as he slept in Elizabeth's arms.

Elizabeth's eyes shone up at her husband... life was good... "Happy New Year, my darling..."

"Haffy New... happy... _hiccup_... Happy rum! ...really bad eggs..." came Jack's husky, slurred voice from under the hat, as he belched, softly... his mouth dropped open, and he resumed snoring...

The timbers of the Pearl creaked, as if she, too, were saying, "Happy New Year to all!"

۞


	53. Wild Horses

_**Disclaimer: **__I keep having to remind myself that they aren't mine... they belong to the Mouse._

_**Author's Note: **__Anyone who has read my fics knows that Will is released from the Dutchman. He and Elizabeth sail with Jack aboard the Black Pearl, much to the delight of the captain. _

_All of my readers know how I enjoy writing Captain Teague, so here is a thoughtful, slightly amusing one shot featuring Jack's papa... and a tip o' th' tricorn to a modern day rock band... enjoy, mates:) Pirate Cat_

_P.S. thanks to Jennifer Lynn Weston for a song suggestion, too! _

۞

The noise was deafening down below him; arguing voices and the sound of fists being slammed on the ancient, scarred tabletop. The minions of Mistress Ching were angrily fighting with the minions of Gentleman Jocard in proxy of each Pirate Lord... the chamber of the Brethren was often used to iron out differences of policy between the loosely governed structure of the Brethren of the Coast, in lieu of blowing each other out of the waters of the world, and many times the Lords would send someone in their stead to possibly kill each other... much to the general chagrin of the Keeper of the Code, whose Shipwreck City quarters were in a room above the din.

Captain Edward Jonathan Teague was standing upon the balcony that overlooked the chamber beneath him, out of sight of the small brawl that was taking place below. Bodies were now sailing across the table... one pirate had another by the throat, whilst another was knocked across the room and into the wall by a well swung chair. As the Keeper of the Pirata Codex, Teague was truly only obligated to uphold the rules which all members of the Brethren swore to sail under... but he was also to guard the Pirata Codex from any physical impairment or harm, and there was a definite threat in the chamber below him...

Annoyed, he wordlessly drew his pistol and, with one quick shot, the chandelier crashed to the tabletop below, effectively scattering the bickering pirates out of the way. As silence fell and they all stared up at the dark, threatening figure on the balcony, they heard a voice like deep Irish thunder growl..."Keep it down! I might blow **_your _**bloody brains out so's_** I **_can think, up here!"

...as they shook in their boots under the glittering, menacing black eyes of the Keeper, they did not need to be warned twice...

۞

Teague's fingers were lightly picking the strings of a guitar made of a deeply polished sea turtle's shell... it's tones were as rich and as deep as the colours of the shell and the pearl inlaid neck of the object of art in his hands. He had nearly forgotten what it sounded like, so long it had been since he had played it. He had several guitars, and his own hands were those of a master musician, as they caressed the strings of this particular instrument.

His dark eyes took on a faraway look, as he let his creased face relax into a small smile... the turtle shell guitar had not been touched since he had learned of his love's death almost thirty years ago. Young Maggie Sparrow had given the guitar to him as a gift, but he had left it unplayed after she died... it always went with him wherever he went, but it had remained silent until just this last Yuletide holiday...

He had spent it with the most profound gift that Maggie had presented him with all those years ago, his beloved son, Jack... he had loved his boy from afar for years, and Teague was grateful that his son was willing to meet him halfway to bury the past in many, many ways. They would always be like the sun and the moon, but then, Teague knew, the sun and the moon needed each other... so was it with him and his boy. Jackie was as spritely and wondrous as Maggie had been, and just as unbalanced, at times... but Jack's crew was a good crew, and they all tried to look after each other, especially his son's young first mate, William Turner the Second. Good man, William is, Teague mused.

_"In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty,_

_'Twas there I first met with sweet Molly Malone...  
_

Teague was surprised that this old Irish lament would be Jack's favourite song, but then the story of Molly Malone was so much like that of Jack's own mother, and seemed to help his son to cope with loss... just as surprisingly, Jack could sing as well as Teague could play guitar... how proud Maggie would have been of them! ... ahhh, Maggie.

"_Greensleeves was all my joy  
Greensleeves was my delight,  
Greensleeves was my heart of gold,  
And who but my lady greensleeves."_

That had been Maggie's favourite song. She was singing a more rousing song on the night that they had met in a pub in Dublin, Teague remembered with pleasure, but it was "_Greensleeves_" that was _their_ song, even as sad as the lyrics were... he could still hear her harp, and her clear, beautiful voice...

Teague paused... what was the name of that song that he had heard, recently, that made him think of young William Turner? The lad was one that had challenged him to a game of Liar's Dice over the winter holiday during their get together, and the whelp had solidly whipped Teague's arse and won the entire pile of peanuts that has been wagered.

Teague allowed himself a wry inward chuckle as he reminded himself that William had learned the game on the Flying Dutchman... William was the only man known to recover his living heart from the ship and walk away from the captaincy of said vessel alive, after he had restored her to her original purpose and won his freedom early... ahhh, yes, the song was called "_Tumbling Dice_"...

As his fingers let music flow from the glad strings of the guitar, the notes slowed, as his ponderings returned to his son... Jack had made Teague open his heart again, and had soothed the pain that Teague had felt for decades for Maggie's death... he still felt the guilt of not reconciling with her in time to save her life, and save his son from the terrible things that had befallen him because he was considered "coloured" by his gypsy heritage. His son had shown him that he could not change the past, but it did not make him miss Maggie less... "... _you can't always get what you want_..." yet another lyric from a song whose origin escaped him for now...

He continued playing softly, as he remembered a fellow whom he had learned so many new songs from, recently... Teague had visited a pub with his son and young Turner as he was preparing to leave Ireland at the end of their visit... there was a skinny bloke there, drinking some good Irish ale and singing in a strangely appealing way... raw, and yet honest... Teague remembered that they had all hit it off very well that evening...

Teague paused... he was remembering some of the songs that they had sung, but the Irish whiskey that Jack kept pouring for his father had made Teague's memory a bit fuzzy that night... how long had it been since that had happened, he wondered with some amusement. There was something about Jack and William that had made him feel much younger these days, Teague reasoned... aye, after all that they had experienced, his son and young Turner did enjoy some good fun... they were good mates to be around whilst in their cups, Teague decided... Turner was not quite as rollicking as Jackie could be, but had a sly, clever sense of humour that Teague appreciated - a tipsy William pointed out to Jack that he couldn't make up his mind who was skinnier, the other bloke or his captain, but young Turner had to admit that Jack was not as homely... the other bloke found them all to be good mates, and didn't care about anything but ale, songs and the serving wench, who just ignored them all, so they had sung the night away.

Many of the melodies that they had sung that night had stuck in Teague's head much like moss would stick to a tree trunk. What was hell was the name of that fellow that they had befriended in Ireland that night? Oh, bloody barnacles, Teague thought, the fellow's name was Mick... that's right... his name was Mick, and he was good singer, in a raw way... Jackie was a much _better_ singer, Teague thought, but Mick knew some damn good songs... those songs seemed to stick with him, like moss on a tree trunk...

Strange, Teague pondered randomly at the thought of moss, that he had been a rolling stone much of his life, and it was said that a rolling stone gathered no moss... odd, though, that he had gathered the memories of so many songs like so much moss, more than he had gathered other people around him... oh well, that doesn't matter, now... not as long as he had his son...

A soft knock came at the door, and the respectful voice of Captain Teague's first mate said, "Cap'n? The Star of Madagascar is ready t' sail, sir... we'll leave when you're ready to hoist th' anchors an' drop sails..."

"I'm comin'..." was Teague's short reply. He rose from his chair, and carefully wrapped his sea turtle shell guitar in the only covering that it had ever known... one of Maggie's colourful, fringed gypsy shawls. He placed the last of his necessary belongings into a simple, worn seabag, then opened the door ... summoning his servants, he watched as they hefted the trunk containing the Pirata Codex...

Looking around one last time, Teague blew out the candles, and slung his seabag over his shoulder... carefully picking up his priceless guitar, he headed toward his ship with a lighter heart than he'd had in years, for he was heading for his home port of the island of Madagascar. Jack and his crew were on their way for a visit... and Teague felt something that he might have put akin to being close to a feeling of exhiliration... he would see his son, again... pausing as he closed the door behind him, Teague almost grinned, as another song of that skinny bloke named Mick came to mind... aye, it described how he was feeling right now... he was going to see his boy, again...

"_Wild horses... couldn't drag me away..."_

The door clicked shut behind him, as Captain Teague hummed, with an unaccustomed smile in his gruff voice... he was going to see his boy, again...

_"...Wild, wild horses... couldn't drag me away..."_

_  
_۞


	54. Fittin'

۞

_**Author's Note: **__I have not written a one shot in months, and have had this idea running about in my mind.. ... I can't remember which reader suggested this, and for that, I apologize... whoever ye are out there, mate, this one's for you! _

_Everyone who is familiar with Pirate Cat's Universe knows that William is released from his captaincy of the Flying Dutchman with certain conditions, and he and Elizabeth are a part of Jack's crew, along with their son, Little Will... in many of my fics, Jack and William are half cousins, and this one is no exception... and in this one shot, we have a cameo by Jack's lady love and oldest friend, Janie O'Madden! Pirate Cat_

The breezes off of the well protected bay were not just warm upon this evening; they were downright hot, and were gently rustling the multicoloured, sheer curtains that seperated the expansive marble terrace from the rest of the home that belonged to the Keeper of the Code. The twilight skies were now showing purple and violet as the sun was setting behind the small but sumptuous home's tiled roof... the terrace faced eastward, out over the bay and toward the Indian Ocean, eastward toward Shipwreck Island, far away... toward a life that Captain Edward Jonathan Teague was about to put behind him, and almost gladly.

The house was almost entirely constructed of stone and marble, with many beautiful appointments of silk and tapestry, and even if it was not sizable, Jack, William, Elizabeth, Little Will and Janie O'Madden thought it about the closest thing to a potentate's palace as any of them had seen... Teague was proud of his home, and had been eagerly, albeit inwardly, anticipating the long planned visit from his beloved son and his odd pirate family. He had welcomed them to his home with fine meals and with equally fine liquor, and they were now settled in for a fine long visit to the east coast of the African island of Madagascar.

As the sun sank lower behind the tops of the tall palm trees and the peaked tile roof, Teague propped his boots up on the terrace's lone table and beckoned one of his servants to bring forth more drinks to cool the palates of the younger pair that were now also propping their sea boots up as their host had... Jack had never really gotten over a cautious nervousness at each first meeting with his one time distant father, but with his first mate William Turner the Second at his side, and his father's gruff but very welcoming greeting, Jack had happily relaxed, as he always did in Teague's presence, these days.

"William, look a' tha'!" Jack had leaned over, his refreshed tankard of rum in one hand and an amused, waggling finger of his other hand pointing downward toward the terrace's far end. As William sipped his fine spiced Caribbean rum, he grinned as he observed his wife and the captain's love, Irish innkeeper Janie, sitting together in the waning light... they were both sitting cross legged upon the brown and green marble, their cotton skirts spread around them like beautiful water lilies, both of them with their long hair combed out loosely and wafting in the salt breezes. Jack sighed deeply and looked on at his auburn haired Janie with unabashed adoration... they were the oldest of friends, and only recently committed to each other by an exchange of rings and a proclamation of love before William and Elizabeth.

Captain Teague was now chuckling along with them, as Elizabeth was entertaining baby Will by pointing out his reflection in the smooth, cool marble. The little one was now sitting up on his own, and was thoroughly enthralled by seeing a baby that looked just like him looking back at him from the reflection underneath his nappied bottom. His own brown curls were blowing in the breeze, and William thought that seeing Janie, Elizabeth and his wee son in such colourful, ethereal evening light was the most beautiful sight in the world, especially considering all that Jack had done to obtain his release from his obligation to the Dutchman... he was grateful to the slender, daft pirate captain with a conscience, who was now truly his best friend... their lives were good, even with piracy on the wane.

"Ain't they a sight, then?" Teague's rumbling deep voice said, softly, as he sighed pleasantly and sipped his whiskey... "I remember bringin' a tiny baby boy back 'ere one time, from tha' very ship out there in the bay... before 'is mother insisted on goin' back t' Ireland with 'im... " Silence fell over them, as Teague paused, then continued, almost to himself, "... I woulda won Maggie back... I woulda married 'er, Jackie, an' this woulda been yer home..."

Jack swiveled his head back around and looked at his father... his beautiful, young gypsy mother had suffered a traumatic birth bringing her only son into the world upon Teague's own ship, the Star of Madagascar, and Jack and Captain Teague both knew, now, that Magdalena Sparrow's mental wanderings that Jack had inherited were not at all her fault... and indeed, she would have married Teague if she had lived long enough... but she hadn't, and Teague had still not come to terms with that part of his life that he still placed the blame upon himself for.

"Papa.." Jack said, quietly, into his large mug of fragrant, strong rum, "... my home on land is in County Galway, Eire, an' has been since I was jus' a li'l lad, especially since leavin' th' Caribbean for good, but this is a good candidate for yet another home on land... me very _first _home, I might add, was tha' ship wot is moored right out there next to me Pearl, aye?"

Jack grinned as he swept a dark ringed hand out toward the two ships that were side by side in the harbor... one was an older galleon, the ship that Jack had been born upon... a grand old lady with three tall masts painted in hues of muted red and burgundy... the smaller barque that was moored next to it was dark and almost black, three masted, as well, and with a grandeur all of her own that was testimony to the legend that she had made of herself at World's End... Jack's beloved Black Pearl...

"I would like to call this place yet another home, Uncle Jonathan," William said, as he leaned forward and took some grapes from a large platter laid out upon the table before them. "I think that Aunt Maggie would have loved it here... had fate not intervened."

William's soft voice, as always, was comforting, at least to his cousin Jack, and Teague leaned back farther in his chair, silently peeling an apple with an ornate dagger from his belt. William also took a slice of some exotic cheese, and added, "I never felt at home in Port Royal... like Jack, the Black Pearl is my home at sea, and Ireland is now our home upon land, but your hospitality certainly makes Madagascar a very appealing place to hide from the Navy."

Indeed the world of piracy was now at it's zenith... Shipwreck Island was not as impregnable as was once thought, and pirates were becoming constant cannon fodder to their foes... even with the heroics that bought time at the Battle of the Maelstrom, it had eliminated Cutler Beckett and Davy Jones, but had only bought time for the world of piracy... and they all knew it.

"I'm glad tha' you're 'ere," Teague's black eyes sparkled as he watched baby Will rub at his eyes sleepily... the little one was growing tired, and Janie pulled him lovingly into her lap as Elizabeth got to her feet to take Will to his cradle for the night. "We need t' talk about th' fact tha' I am leavin' me position as the Keeper o' th' Code, as ye know, an'... " he paused as he looked over at his son, whose warm brown eyes were now absolutely huge as he stared up into the palm tree that was waving above their heads... William also looked up, and his mouth dropped open in surprise. "What th' hell is THAT?"

Teague chuckled as he watched Jack's reaction... his boy's mustache quirked up,nervously, and his head tilted very much to one side. He blinked in awe and almost visibly pushed himself away from what they were all observing.

In the dark above their heads, was an animal. It was rather large, sitting quietly upon a crook in the palm tree's trunk, almost like as if he was in a fine chaise lounge of his own. He was like nothing that Jack or William had ever seen in their lives... he had soft gray fur, and a dog-like long face.. his tufted ears shifted their way and his long arms and legs placidly held onto the tree trunk as it softly waved back and forth in the wind. The most distinctive features of this animal, other that his size, was a very long, furry ringed tail, and two of the largest orange eyes that Jack and William had ever seen.

"He's harmless... come on down, mate, and meet me family..." Teague called up to the creature in his soft brogue. The animal was silently observing William and Jack intently. Jack was now scooting his chair slowly closer to William, who staring right back at the animal, who was not the least bit concerned. Teague shrugged, "Alright... don't come down... suit yerself."

"Wot... is... it?" Jack finally found his voice, and had completely forgotten about his rum.

"Lemur. Ring tailed lemur." was the short answer. "'T'would make a fine pirate... lemurs operate mostly by night, an' this one comes by often. Bold buggers... they've been known t' go right int' villages on this side o' th' island an' help themselves t' wotever suits 'em... this one, " Teague pointed with his dagger, "... 'e likes apples... I keeps apples on hand fer 'im..."

Jack turned to look at William, then at his father, as the lemur kept staring at them, his orange eyes literally glowing in the light of the lanterns and torches that were now being lit upon the terrace. "Papa, ye keeps apples on hand fer 'im? Like a pet?"

"No different than those hens that ye fancy, an' keep on th' Pearl, Jackie," Teague chuckled, as Jack pondered his fearsome father having a pet lemur. He shrugged a little, and thought to take the conversation into lighter weather. "Soooo... does 'e have a name, then?" Jack swiveled his head back around, and stared back up at the animal that had now languidly curled it's extraordinarily long, striped tail around the trunk of the palm tree.

It was then that Jack and William both jumped, as Teague tossed a piece of the apple that he had peeled straight up into the palm tree, and the animal let out a strange wail as he happily reached out and snapped the slice out of the air! He quickly devoured it, and waited for another piece. Jack grinned and William laughed out loud as Teague tossed piece after piece of the apple up to their furry companion, with each piece being caught easily and quickly...

And it was just as quickly that the creature disappeared. "Where'd 'e go??" Jack looked around so quickly that he nearly toppled from his chair, and William reached over to steady him, "Where..."

"T' th' tavern, no doubt... Hector doesn't stick around, an' 'e finds handouts down there, " Teague said, casually... he looked out of the corner of his eye at his son and his nephew, as they both turned to look at him, incredulous looks upon their faces as William was obviously beginning to stifle a laugh.

Jack smiled, as he finally found his tankard of rum and leaned forward, "_Hector_? Ye named yer pet '_Hector_'??"

Teague regarded his son with amusement, his creased face unsmiling, but his black eyes sparkling and crinkling in the corners, "Makes sense... 'e sneaks about takin' things wot ain't 'is, including some things of me own.. mutiny, I'd call that... aye, if Barbossa can name a monkey after me boy, I can name _my_ pet, 'Hector'..."

And with satisfied look, the trio propped their boots back up on the old table, and they all leaned back and watched the moon rise over the wide, glittering nighttime sea before them... Teague's low, rumbling voice was beginning to slur, pleasantly, with the effects of good whiskey from Dublin, and he said, "Aye... Hector th' Madagascar Ring-Tailed Lemur... seems fittin'..."

And the trio softly tapped their tankards together, as the palm trees waved above their heads... they were making changes in their lives, this pirate family, and they would be alright...it _all _seemed fittin', these days...

THE END

۞


	55. Something Wicked

_**Disclaimer**: Not mine, but like pirates, I steals things! Pirate Cat_

۞

"Don't move, Jack... just lie still..."

Whose voice was that? Who... where... he tried to open his eyes, but they were swelled shut... no doubt from a very thorough beating, his throbbing head thought. Was he lying on his side? His mouth felt as if it had been stuffed full of cotton... and he could not feel his left arm.

He felt a hand gently lift his head, albeit a bit awkwardly, and could feel wetness at his parched lips. Water... thirstily, he tried to drink more than he was truly able to, and he choked... pain wracked his body and he cried out... a very embarrassing action for the great Captain Jack Sparrow.

He could hear a patient sigh... only one man could sound patient and impatient at the same time, Jack pondered through the haze that was stubbornly hanging on to his thoughts... Jack finally stopped choking, and struggled to whisper, "Bill?"

"Aye, lad, 'tis me." Jack felt a cold, wet cloth washing his face, as he wished desperately that he could open his eyes.

"Stop struggling, Jack... just lie quiet-like. I know what yer thinkin', boy, so jus' let me tell ye where ye are, an' what happened..."

Jack knew what had happened... "Beckett..."

Bill was silent... "Aye. Beckett."

"'E branded me, Bill. 'E sank me beautiful ship, an' 'e bloody BRANDED ME!" The words were now flowing freely from the young man's mouth, as the water had moistened his tongue, loosening it once again to the swearing and the utter fury that Bill had heard spewing forth from Jack's fevered rambling since they had found him in the brig of the EITC victim of the pirate ship that Bill had signed up with for the while, the _Witches' Moon_.

"Jus' rest, Jack... please... yer on a pirate ship tha' has a good cap'n, an' he's lettin' me take care o' ye, lad...

Jack did become quiet... but disturbingly so, as he set his mouth in a firm line, and clenched his teeth... oh... the pain... the pain finally overcame him again, and in the presence of a man who at one time had almost raised him, the rage was set aside, and furious, helpless tears began to flow, quietly... his back was slashed open by a cat o'nine, his left arm was broken, and the underside nearly burned clean of skin, and his face was blackened by the fists of Mr. Mercer as the slight, slender young man had been held between two sailors who were much larger in stature than himself.

But the injury that pained him the most... that made him shake with utter contempt and anger that he was sure would fester for the rest of his days, was the "P" shaped burn that had nearly been ground to the bone on his right wrist... damn it... damn it... damn it!

Jack sank into unconsciousness, but Bill could not help but see that the young man's jaw was clenched...hard. There was a great deal that Jack Sparrow was dealing with... and one of those things was that he had finally been pushed, hard, into the pirate life of his own fearsome father... a life that Jack had never wanted.

۞

_The pirate crew of the Witches' Moon had laughed at the pompous little ass that confronted them with such cool contempt, even as they had put him off in a longboat with his trained monkey, Mercer, staring at them with burning hatred. Such an embarrassment that was for the EITC, as the captain of the Witches' Moon had narrowly escaped a branding at the hands of Cutler Beckett, himself, one time, and this strike was certainly a strike for justice, as far as he was concerned... Beckett had never been known to use that branding iron more than merely threaten with it, but it was enough to piss many a good man off, and Beckett had done a fair share of just that._

_Bootstrap Bill Turner has boarded the conquered ship with the rest of his mates, and once they knew that it was Lord Beckett's vessel, they knew that there would be much there of value to take away with them, including good food and fine bottles of drink down in the hold... Bill took it upon himself, as he went below. to take stock of the supplies that would take away the gnawing of a pirate's hungry stomach. What he found turned his stomach._

_In the brig was a man... a small man who was lying face down in the dirty straw, his shirt missing, and his back raw and bloody. Already there were flies buzzing about the wounds, and when Bill got closer, he recoiled in horror at the burns that were evident on the man's slender arms... He was motionless, and as Bill's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see long, trinketed black braids, and the tails of a bright red bandanna sticking to the man's bloody back, and instantly Bill was on one knee, looking through the bars, trying to see the young man's face... even beaten purple, Bill recognized him, and with his pistol, he blew the lock to smithereens and gathered his young friend into his arms. _

_Jack had always had a tenuous hold on reality, he knew, and before he came up to consciousness fighting with everything that his crippled arms could muster, Bill carried him above, and promptly went for help._

۞

"There's worse things, Jack..."

'Worse than this swill tha' yer forcin' me t' eat?" Jack growled, as Bill held out yet another spoon full of the broth that he had brought out to his friend from the galley... in Bill' opinion, it wasn't bad, but Jack's opinion differed with his, and who could blame him?

Jack was laying in a hammock on the deck of the _Witches' Moon..._ the hold was much too hot in the Caribbean summer, and so the captain determined that the young man would convalesce in a hammock strung on the main deck, off to one side and with a piece of sail canvas strung over him to shelter him from the sun... even two weeks later, Jack was looking like he had been pulled through a knothole, backwards, Bill thought.

Jack's face was healed to the point that his expressive dark eyes were open, but they had lost much of the sparkle and life that had been a part of him for his entire life... Jack was naturally of a sunny nature, but in being so ill with fever and nearly losing his left arm to what might have been gangrene, and not having the full use of his right hand until the last few days certainly dampened his spirit.

Bill put the bowl of broth down, and pulled up a chair. Determined to cheer Jack up, Bill leaned forward and said, "We be headin' for Tortuga, Jack...we visited there, before, when you were just a young pup... remember th' first time ye got drunk? An' the brawl tha' we got into at th' place called th' Faithful Bride?"

Jack thought about it, and for the first time in weeks, a smile danced at his lips... he winced as he moved onto his side... the splint on his left arm was itching terrible, but the burned brand on his right arm seemed to be responding to the salve that Bill applied to it... "Aye... Tortuga... " he said, his husky voice chuckling a bit. "Pirate haven, then... " His face fell, "Like I 'ave choices, now."

Bill said, "Jack, pirating is in your blood, boy, jus' like it's in mine... me own father was a pirate, though I barely knew 'im... yer a self educated man, Jack, an' yer smart, an' there's worse things tha' ye can do with yer life than be a pirate...ye could be the best pirate tha' ever live, if ye put yer stubborn, addled mind to it... "

Bill looked at his dark young friend, earnestly, and said, quietly, "There's revenge t' be had, lad, if yer patient. I know you, Jack, and I know tha' ye'll get yours, someday. It might take years, but ye'll get yer chance, boy..."

Jack laid in his hammock, now marked for life as a criminal, simply for sticking to his principals to not transport captive human beings, and looked at his tall companion. Bill was estranged from his wife and his young son, and he was sure that Mary Turner blamed Jack for much of it... there was no telling what rot she was giving the boy, and yet here was Bill, trying to make him look at the good side of pirating...

"We'll give that one some thought, Bill..." Jack said, as he felt the rocking of the ship as she cut through the blue waters toward Tortuga... "... there's worse things, aye... "

۞

The ship was moored at the docks of Tortuga City, and it was probably somewhere around 2:00AM... Jack had been left alone on the ship with the watchman and the captain, a man who was good enough to him as long as he knew that the brash young Sparrow would not be on the ship for long. It was already apparent to the captain of the _Witches' Moon_ that this young pup might have been a captain too young, but the young man's bragging ways were better than his anger had been only two weeks ago. There was, however, a rumbling among the crew that there was something about Sparrow that was just... not quite right. He was given to wild eyed bouts of talking to himself, and it was more than just a bit unnerving.

Jack struggled out of his hammock, and slowly made his way over to the railing, to look at the torchlit streets below... he was still not well, but well enough to lean against the railing and watch the comings and goings down on the docks... his mind began to wander, and his thoughts went back to Lord Beckett. He almost felt himself become sick with rage, again, but suddenly, Bill's words of the afternoon before came to him...

_"Jack, pirating is in your blood, boy, jus' like it's in mine... me own father was a pirate, though I barely knew 'im... yer a self educated man, Jack, an' yer smart, an' there's worse things tha' ye can do with yer life than be a pirate...There's revenge t' be had, lad, if yer patient. I know you, Jack, and I know tha' ye'll get yours, someday. It might take years, but ye'll get yer chance, boy..."_

Turning away from the railing, Jack painfully made his way across the deck... he stopped once, and looked up at the tall masts above his head... the captain's colours were up there, and he could see them waving proudly in the soft tropical breeze... he pondered it all...

And as he slowly went to the starboard railing, he took in the harbour that narrowly opened out onto the wide expanse of the open sea... the moon was shining beautifully, and for the first time in some weeks, Jack smiled fully at the sight... the salt air was filling his lungs, and he felt a fine tingling sensation in his left arm... it was going to be alright, he thought. Looking down at his fingers, as they stuck out of the splint, he wiggled them... it was as if he were waving at his bare toes, and he began to laugh.

As he looked down, he spotted a book that had been left for him to read, if he wished, a gesture that he thought was considerate of the captain..

"Aye", he thought, "I've been a proper pain in th' arse, but he loans me a fine leather bound copy o' 'MacBeth'... only a good man would do tha'," Jack began to reason out loud, and it was then that something struck him like lightning had traveled right down the mast and hit him in his concussion prone head!

Carefully reaching down and picking up the book, he said, to no one, "Bill remembered tha' I like Shakespeare... so was it chance tha' 'e brought me a copy o' 'MacBeth'?

Going back to his hammock, young Jack Sparrow stretched out and listened to the night sounds of Tortuga, but his mind had begun to spin with plans, to the point that he nearly wanted to attempt to dress himself and leave the ship...

"Ahhh, MacBeth!" he began to chortle to himself, as he reached a toe over the side of the hammock and began to push himself back and forth to the rhythm of his own husky voice... "Th' story o' lust fer power... o' betrayal... "

He rocked himself harder and his eyes grew wide, "A story o' violence.. o' witchcraft... o' deciet an' finally..." Jack paused, oblivious to the noise from the streets below, oblivious to his own body's pain... it was so plain to him that he nearly fell out of the hammock.

Sitting straight up, he stared at the book in his hand... and he suddenly felt like a brand new man... for the story of MacBeth ended, of course, in the _defeat_ of the King...

He sat in stunned silence for a long while, and then stared back up at the colours of the pirate captain, a good man... aye, he thought, it was possible. for pirates were merely men to start with, and most of them good ones, even to the end... yet those who held power of another sort could be brought down, he thought, grimly.

"I will have my day, then, Cutler Beckett," Jack murmured to himself, as his dark gypsy eyes gazed back down at the volume that he held, now laying open with it's pages rippling in the night breeze... "I wonder if you have ever read 'MacBeth'?"

Resignation... nay, acceptance, welled up inside of him, and he took a deep breath... "...alright, then, a pirate's life fer me...''

But even in the pitch black of night, Jack Sparrow's eyes narrowed with anticipating glee at the possibilities, and he said to the stars, through clenched teeth, "... but fer Cutler Beckett... ahhhh... t' quote Shakespeare_...'something __wicked__, this... way... comes...'"_

His voice lowered to a low pitched growl, as he whispered, "He has no idea just _how_ wicked..."

His hand snapped the book shut.


End file.
